


Spooky Hamilton

by Momma_Time



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Blood, Death, Dragon Age Inquisition AU, F/F, F/M, Fighting, Gen, Ghosts, Hogwarts AU, Idk what relationships will show up in this, Lams - Freeform, M/M, Magic, Mentions of PTSD, NSFW, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Poor Burr, Sacrifices, Spooky, Vampire makeup to seduce your man, Vampires, Violence, and the rating may change, as will the tags, at some point maybe, body foods, braaaaaiiiiinsss cake, but a lot of how this is categorized will be changed, but it depends on the prompt, but not graphic, enslavement, ghosts getting dirty, idk yet, ill mark which ones have violence in the notes, jello art, laf is a saint, mage peggy, pegs and herc are brotp tbh, some weird shit here, there will likely be actual horror later on, touches on noncon dubcon, we shall see, when is he not a saint, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-21 23:05:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 30,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8263691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Momma_Time/pseuds/Momma_Time
Summary: This will be a series of prompts from Huxloween's Prompt Calendar: http://huxloween.tumblr.com/post/149435709656Formally Father_Time





	1. Pumpkin Spice Lattes; or: Actual White Girl Hamilton (and TJeffs)

**Author's Note:**

> I'll name each chapter after the prompt. Some will be short, some will be long, it's a grab bag friends.  
> I'm putting my other fic on hold while I muddle through this. Chapter 4 is giving me problems right now anyway. Also, I'm super far behind. Yikes. I have 11 of these things to write up in order to catch up.

A paper cup, decorated with a few leaf shapes, made a clop sound as it was placed in front of him. Alex’s eyes followed the dark hand after slender fingers released the venti cup and met Thomas’ bored expression. Alex glanced at him and then the cup a moment, mouth opening and closing as he tried to form a response.

“Is…it poisoned?” he finally asked.

Thomas scoffed, arms folding while still managing to hold onto his own Starbucks venti-sized drink. “No Hamilton, I didn’t poison it. I plan on doing that with the enormous bag of candy corn in your backpack later. I’ll switch it out with my own and watch as you slowly and finally croak.”

“Then what the hell is this?” Alex took the cup and opened it to see what was inside and a laugh followed soon after. “Is this pumpkin spice? Is yours pumpkin spice? Oh, my g—I didn’t know you were such a white girl Jefferson.”

“Shut it small fry. We both know you’re just as much of a white girl as I am. Drink your damn latte and try not to drown in that hideous sweater of yours.”

Alex grinned at him and decided to let the ‘small fry’ insult slide this one time, “Is that worry I hear? Do you care about me, Jefferson? Aw, how sweet.”

Thomas smacked the back of his head lightly as he started to walk off in a huff. “Shut up Hamilton.”

Reaching out quickly, Alex snatched Thomas’ free hand and tugged him back. He needed to at least thank him. The man didn’t have to bring him anything, although Alex didn’t know why he would anyway. “Thank you, Jefferson.”

The taller man peered down at his rival, expression unreadable. Alex hated that about him, that there were many times he couldn’t get a read on the man. It drove him up a wall. How was he supposed to get the upper hand if he couldn’t read him? Meanwhile, Alex knew he was an open book, overly expressive, and it didn’t help his case.

If only Thomas weren’t so damn irritating like that; it frustrated him.

Seeming to figure out a response finally, Thomas smirked and leaned down into Alex’s space, pecking him on the cheek. His smug expression only grew when Alex’s face lit up like Christmas.

“Enjoy your white girl latte, Hamilton.” He didn’t get a response. Thomas wondered if that’s how he should shut him up from now on if it worked that well.


	2. Bonfire (I'm coming to get you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camp Wahsega is a real place and it hosts 4-H campers every summer. I know this because I was one and the story Hercules tells is one that was told to us while we were there.  
> Idk why they have a conference in Ga but just go with it.

“So who wants to tell the first ghost story?” John Laurens clapped his hands together and grinned. They had finally gotten around to setting up a bonfire for their little group. They were on a weekend field trip, heading to Atlanta for a conference, but decided that this place would be a great experience. And when better to tell horror stories than now? In the middle of the night, no less.

Hercules was the first to speak up, looking around to meet the eyes of everyone in their group. Jefferson and Madison, the Schuyler sisters, Burr, Alex and John, Lafayette, and somehow Washington, the senior of the group of students, had been convinced to join them. Hercules credited Lafayette, who was all but sitting on the man’s lap. His eyes, however, met those of Alex and John, and John flashed him a slight smile and a nod. Oh, this would be great.

“Dibs,” he finally said.

Everyone grabbed their sticks and marshmallows, or hotdogs (Madison and Burr for some reason thought that it was a great idea but hey, to each their own…), and settled in to listen. Except for John, who shot up suddenly and darted down the trail, citing upset stomach as his excuse. Hercules knew better, as did Alex, who shot Hercules a smirk.

“Right, well, here at Camp Wahsega, they rent the cabins out to people looking for a short getaway. The summer, of course, is when they have the 4-H campers. But, we’re not going to worry about them right now.

“One evening, a salesman needed to spend the night, in town for the weekend as a representative of his company to negotiate with a restaurant being built. The office gladly rented him cabin six and showed him which cabin and where the bathrooms were. Everything was chill, perfectly fine. He showered, headed to his cabin, and went to bed.”

Here is where he paused to take in another breath.

“Now, at about 2 am, he startled awake. You know when you’re sound asleep, and you can just _feel_ something there or someone watching you? Something was there, and he could feel it, hair-raising and a chill running up his spine. Sitting up, he looked around the cabin at the empty bunks and spotted something in the corner. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust and when they did, he could make out a small hooded figure, floating there.”

Hercules raised the pitch of his voice into a childlike sing-song tone, “”I’m coming to geeeeet you,” it sang softly. The man bolted from his bed and out the door, tripping over his feet as he stumbled away from the thing. Behind him, he could hear its voice following him, repeating “I’m coming to geeeeet you.” He didn’t care where he went, so long as it was away from the thing. It was when he glanced over his shoulder that he made his first mistake. He ran into the creek and followed it to the falls. Now, during the summer, it’s a slide of sorts for campers. In his terror, he forgot how dangerous it could be, running across the creek and through the falls barefoot. He made it about halfway up before he looked over his shoulder again. Nothing. He didn’t see anything. The hair on the back of his neck raised, and when he turned back towards the direction he’d been climbing, he found the figure floating before him. Startled, he jumped back and slipped, hitting his head and sliding down the falls, drowning.”

“Weeks pass and another man comes along, renting a cabin for one night. He went about his routine and went to bed early.”

“Lemme guess; he woke up at 2 am,” Jefferson cut in. Madison elbowed him lightly, and Hercules snorted.

“3 am actually, but close.” Clearing his throat, he went back to his story. “Feeling the same chill, the same eerie feeling of being watched, he woke up and looked around for the source. The same hooded figure was floating in the corner, reaching out and calling, “I’m coming to geeeeet you.” “Who are you? Stop that!” The figure ignored his shout and advanced on him, continuing its call. He tried to back away from it, to escape, but he fell out of his bed. The fear and shock of falling ended with him having a heart attack.”

“Another few weeks pass and a trucker stays for the night. He was making a delivery to the camp, bringing food for their stores, and decided to stay. In the night, he woke to the very same feeling of being watched.” Now Hercules could see Alex’s grin growing. The good part was coming, and they both knew it. “He found the figure in the corner, but it was already coming towards him. More startled than anything, he jumped out of bed and faced it. When the fear did set in, he started backing away towards the door. When he felt the handle, he swung the door open and made a run for it. “I’m coming to geeeeet you!” cried the voice behind him. The trucker would swear that it was getting closer. Panic setting in, he ran for the rec hall, and upon seeing a ladder, shot up the steps towards the roof. Ghosts can’t get to roofs, can they? Or that’s what his panicked mind told him.”

“It was only when he reached the top that he saw the figure again, waiting for him. Startled again when it reached for him, he fell from the ladder. Dazed, he could do nothing but watch it float towards him, calling “I’m coming to geeeeeet you.” When it reached him, it reached out but hesitated. Finally, it made its decision and its hand shot out at him as it screamed—“

“TAG! You’re it!” John had jumped from the shadows and grabbed Burr from behind, who—he’d deny it—squealed and jerked away, falling off of his log while the rest of the group roared with laughter. Good naturedly, John smiled at Burr and reached for his hand to help him up. “Thank you for playing along, Mr. Burr.”

Burr straightened his clothes with a huff, but a small smile tugged at his lips as he looked between John and Hercules. “You two have been planning that all night.”

“Guilty,” they chorused.


	3. Meta Horror (or that one time Aaron wasn't the "black guy")

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little ridiculous. I basically list the rules of meta-horror and write a short blurb of a story, split between the rules.  
> Poor Aaron is always the verbal punching bag.  
> It's up for interpretation if there's a death or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is absolute crack and someone get Aaron a blanket and puppies.

A hero rising from the ashes victoriously, in the end, makes for a great tale. A generic one, yes, but isn’t everything cookie cutter now?

Let’s explain what I mean.

Meta Horror is when the characters and audience know/have a feeling about what’s happening. They know that there are things to reference back to, that remind them “Oh, let’s not do that.”

**Step 1: One must set the rules.**

“Why are we going in here again?” Aaron asked; Eliza and Thomas nodded in agreement. “You know those movies where the black guy dies first, then the funny one, then the cool guy and asshole, then the nerd/gentleman, and then the cute girl is the only one to escape? Yeah, this is what you’re dragging us into Alex.”

 

 

**Rule 2: Everyone ignores the rules.**

“Well, at least I’ll survive it while you knuckleheads go first,” Eliza had smirked at Aaron before Thomas nudged her shoulder.

“Okay but, I’m the gentleman, right?”

Alex scoffed at the front of their group, “No, you’re the doubting asshole.”

“Okay, but who’s the black guy?” Hercules called from the back.

“Aaron,” everyone—but Aaron—replied.

“Why do I die first? Those idiots are black guys too!” He gestured at Thomas and Hercules, indignant.

Flashing Aaron a grin, Alex pulled out his pack of lock picking tools and tossed them to Hercules. The guy was better at it than he was and Alex didn’t want to break them in the dark. “Yeah but they have more personality than that of a doorbell, so they actually have a category that fits them.”

“I can be a gentleman…and I guess I’m a bookworm.” He paused before looking to Eliza for support. “I’m cool, right?”

“Do you want an honest answer to that?”

Aaron huffed and turned his glare towards Alex. “Then what are you?”

“Well, let’s list this out, shall we? You’re the black guy; Hercules is the funny one; Thomas is the cool guy slash asshole; I’m the nerdy gentleman because let’s be honest, I’m cool, but I will proudly admit to being a nerd—”

“A huge nerd,” Hercules helpfully interjected, on his knees at the door. “Almost got it by the way.”

Alex ignored him and continued, “And of course, Eliza is the gorgeous girl who gets away because I’ll be the gentleman to give my life to save her.”

Eliza smiled sweetly, “Aw, how thoughtful, except that I’ll be the one saving your asses.” Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at her. “What? I can drop a bomb when I want…I’m just usually too intelligent to stoop to that level of lack of imagination.”

Hercules looked up from his work, sporting a frown, “Rude. Alex, control your girlfriend.”

“I think she controls him; Eliza definitely wears the pants in the relationship.” Thomas amended.

“Damn right I wear them. I wear my pants _and_ his.”

“Too far,” Aaron mumbled. “Alex, control your girlfriend.” That earned him a swat to the back of his head.

“Don’t waste your energy Eliza; he goes first anyway.” Alex was given his own head swat.

**Rule 3: Hasn’t this happened before?**

When they finally broke into the creepy house, everyone drew out their flashlights and started doling out who went where.

“Alex, hold on.” Aaron, gripped Alex’s arm to stop him a moment as the guy tried to rush into everything. “What happens when people split up?”

“Um—”

“They _die_ , Alexander. That’s how everyone gets picked off one by one.”

 

 

**Rule 4: Everyone ignores the rules (except Aaron):**

“Relax Aaron; they’re just movies!” Hercules smacked him on the back and brushed passed him. “Besides, we’re looking for that rocking horse thing for Peggy, right? We’ll find it faster this way.”

Everyone paired off, except Hercules, and started making their way down halls or up the stairs. Aaron managed to snag Eliza and Alex had Thomas—the idiot planned on scaring the hell out of him.

“Are you seriously going along with this?” he asked her, their arms linked.

“Yeah, I mean, why not? It’ll be fun. ‘Sides, we can scare Alex before he spooks Thomas.”

“You know, that just might make dying a horrible death worth it.”

 

 

**Rule 5: Cheese is fine, don’t take the creation seriously.**

They all stared at the masked figure at the top of the stairs. Yes, all five of them. There was no doubt that it wasn’t one of them.

Aaron huffed and slipped his jacket off. It had to be John or Peggy. “Alright. I’m done with this.” Ignoring everyone else trying to get him to come back, he ascended the stairs and went to yank the mask off. It didn’t budge, and the figure just stared at him, no breath felt as Aaron stared right back.

“Oh.”

It only took a nudge for Aaron to tip back and fall down the stairs.

It seems that the doubting asshole went first this time.


	4. Dolls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papa Alex to the rescue. Only he can save the brave Prince Phillip!  
> OK, he's not a prince, but Alex treasures (read: spoils) that boy like he's one.  
> There's nothing really creepy other than dolls coming to life.
> 
> If Peggy were there (no reason to be), she would totally invite them downstairs for coffee. Peggy is chill.  
> But Peggy isn't here right now...

The fact that eight-year-old Phillip, the one who never screamed after 5, was screaming in the middle of the night, had Alex in panic mode. Something was wrong. Someone had broken in or Phillip was hurt. He grabbed his handgun from the drawer in his nightstand and dashed out of the room, down the hall, and into Phillip’s room.

OK, yeah, that? That right there was a new one. A couple of (what he thought were a reenactment group) Civil War soldiers were in Phillip’s room, some looking bored while two of them were trying to calm Phillip down. Great.

But why in the hell were there a group of men dressed up as soldiers in his son’s room, in the middle of the night, and laying a hand on his kid?

Raising the gun, he aimed at the ones by his son’s bed. “Oi! Back away from him.”

The few sitting on the floor stood immediately and aimed their guns at him defensively, causing Alex to take a step back. Please let those be models and not actual guns, loaded and ready to down a man. One of them stepped forward, gun at his side rather than aimed at Alex.

“We were just trying to calm the boy. We meant no harm.” He raised his hands, palms out, as a sign of submission rather than aggression. “He was having a nightmare and—”

“Maybe because there are strange men in his bedroom? Yeah, I’d scream too. Out before I shoot you down and call the police.” He started to edge his way into the room slowly and then to the side, the soldiers turning with him to keep him in sight. When he’d reached Phillip’s bed, he gently wrapped an arm around him, pressing a kiss to his soft and curly hair, but his eyes never left the intruders.

“Why are you in my house?”

“Papa? They were in my toy chest,” Phillip’s small voice explained. “They’re my toys. Papa, why are they so big?”

“Toys? You don’t have any toy soldiers…none that look like them anyway.” Alex pulled Phillip closer and moved so that he was slightly between him and the soldiers, guarding him. Phillip was his kid, his pride and joy, dammit, and they wouldn’t lay another finger on him if he had anything to do with it.

The soldier in the front motioned for his men to lower their guns. Only when they all did, and some set theirs down on the floor or rested them against the wall, did Alex set his down beside him on the bed. He and their leader had a stare off for a moment before Alex repeated his question. Why were they there?

“I believe the boy told you.”

“No. That’s ridiculous. Toys don’t come to life, and they definitely don’t become grown men.” This was frustrating.

The soldiers must have felt the same, as one of them asked, “But are ya goin’ to be a good host an’ get us somethin’ to drink?”

Alex deadpanned, “No. Get out of my house.” He needed to remember why he was here. Phillip had screamed. There were strange, armed men in his son’s bedroom. They needed to go. “Now.”

“Look, we need supplies an’ we have the right to take them if we need them,” the soldier sneered.

His commander shot him a look, “Hush. You’re scaring the boy.” He was right. Phillip had curled closer to his father, and Alex could feel him shaking.

“Alright. Enough. I’m calling the police and—”

Phillip nudged him, “No! They’ll take my toys away…”

Alex smiled softly and hugged him, “No sweetie, they aren’t your toys.”

“But they are! They are my toys!” Phillip nudged him again, “They’re my toys, Papa!”

The second nudge had been a little harder than Alex expected from the boy. Distracted by speaking with his son, he didn’t notice the soldier that had demanded something to drink slipping up behind him. Who then grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him off of the bed.

Alex fell with a thud and a yelp, laying there in a daze before he frowned at the ceiling. That was his ceiling. That was his nightstand. There wasn’t a soldier to be seen above him, and that was definitely a blanket from his bed.

Just a dream then.

Sighing, Alex went to check on Phillip for his peace of mind and was pleased to find that Phillip was safe and sound, even snoring slightly from allergies stuffing up his nose. Alex would need to get him more allergy medicine for that. It wasn’t until he was heading back to the door that he realized something. Turning around, he saw a toy soldier on Phillip’s nightstand, gun raised and pointed at Phillip. Creeped out, Alex swiped the toy and tossed it in his bathroom trash.

Oh hell no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the soldier bits are kind of inspired by past issues of mine?
> 
> Fun fact, some of the people with bipolar have issues with hallucinations in their moments of psychosis. I hear things (read: use to; hear voices/whispers) and paranoia sets in (something is watching me/hair on the back of my neck raising/afraid of nothing.) However, none of that surfaced until senior year of high school and on until I started medication. That does NOT explain the weird things that happened in my house.  
> I swear that I saw a confederate soldier in my backyard and once in my house going down the hall. He didn't scare me or anything; he seemed chill, I guess, as nothing happened and he only looked at me that one time in the yard. Idk, I had a problem while I was in school once where it wasn't just me. Three of use heard/saw/felt something. Now, that thing was evil. You could just tell it was. So I know it wasn't the bipolar at that point in my life.  
> Anyway, back to my soldier dude.  
> I guess it was part of those experiences that influenced some of the things that happened in psychosis. It felt like he was there a lot (including after the bipolar popped in), even though I never heard or saw him again after about 7th grade. Although, when I was older, he was like a prelude to the parts of those auditory hallucinations that freaked me out. Like, hey kid go find something to calm you down because It is coming and you know how He is (There was another thing that freaked me out as a small child.)  
> I lived just south of Atlanta and General Sherman's March to the Sea path wouldn't have been too far from where I lived. Idk why a soldier(s) would be at that distance from the main path they took but hey, w/e. Besides, he was a confederate, not a union, so I guess that makes it a little more likely???? I don't know. If someone wants to give me more info on that mess, I'll gladly accept it.  
> Is it weird that I kind of miss him?


	5. Halloween Fashion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I mean, it's self-explanatory.  
> Peggy knows what's up.  
> Eliza can't win.  
> This is a short one, whoops.

Eliza didn't want to go costume shopping with Peggy. Sure, she loved time with her sister and she always walked away from the experience decked out like someone out of a magazine, but this was not the time of the year for that. Peggy had found the Halloween headbands and jewelry. Which meant that Peggy was forcing every ridiculous headband with mini with hats and pumpkin earrings at her that she could get her hands on.

In the end, Eliza walked out of Party City with a bag full of jewelry, a baseball cap with a witch hat on top for Angelica, and a couple of shirts and headbands.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to wear all of this before Halloween, Pegs.”

“And? You can damn well try.”

 

In the end, their friends were jealous and Peggy kept shooting her a smug, “I told you so” look.


	6. Transformation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PhilipxGeorges  
> Background HamxLaf (idr the ship name???)  
> Touches on the reincarnation of lovers. Laf and Georges are vampires and lost Ham and Son back at the beginning of our nation. Laf and Georges find their lost lovers and decide that they're not losing them again.  
> READ THE CHAPTER NOTES. I want you guys safe and happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter are:  
> TW: Noncon/dubcon, in that Philip is changed without being asked and Georges kinda hypnotizes him?  
> TW: Blood  
> TW: Blood drinking  
> TW: Body horror, to some extent. I describe the process of death a little in like, three-ish sentences?
> 
> Summary of what happens in the end notes if you want to skip this chapter.

It hurt, more than he thought. In movies or books, the victim faints or it happens in a fit of passion and both parties benefit from it. It was nothing like the reality. Teeth are wider than needles. They don’t just puncture the skin; they tear into it.

And you can’t scream. You’re in shock, but some part of you knows that if you scream, the attacker might kill you to silence you, or you might move _just right_ , and you bleed out. Your strength fails you in a matter of seconds, and no amount of pushing and beating them with your fists rids you of your attacker. But that’s only if you make it passed them catching your eye. Eye contact. That’s your first mistake. It’s how they draw you in, make you compliant long enough to drain you of any fight you might have had.

It’s like what one would think love at first sight feels like. Nothing else matters, and everything around you fades away into you and the owner of those gorgeous eyes. Sultry. Now _that_ is like the Dracula book he had to read in high school. The book, for its time, was so scandalous for how “risqué” it was. Dracula’s brides, the three mindless demons that stalked you, all curves and beauty and “voluptuous” lips curling into a just this side of cruel smiles. Like lionesses, they’d move toward you smoothly, like air and just as silent. It wouldn’t be until it was too late that you fell into the trap.

Georges, the son of his father’s friend Lafayette. He thought they might have a chance at friendship. Especially when their fathers thought making them roommates would be a good way to help the boys transition into college life. Philip liked him enough. The young man seemed kind enough and intelligent; Philip thought that conversation wouldn’t be a problem if he had someone as his equal.

Things were working out just fine; they got along swimmingly, peas in a pod. For most of their first week. It was at the end of the week, what Philip would look back on as a sort of trial period, that shit hit the fan. They weren’t loaded down with homework yet and had decided that they’d both crash on one of their beds and pull out Georges’ laptop to watch a movie. Halfway through the second movie, Philip started drifting off, leaning heavily on his friend.

When Georges gently raised his shoulder to keep him awake, and it didn’t work, the older boy reached over and lifted Philip’s face with gentle fingers under his chin. “ _My friend, don’t fall asleep. The best part is coming._ ”

Philip forced his eyes to open again, lids fluttering a moment until he focused on his friend. “Mmh? _Sorry, didn’t mean to._ ” He should look away. People didn’t look at their friends the way Georges was eyeing him. It was tender, sort of, but there was a sharpness to it. Philip didn’t know, couldn’t have known the danger when Georges had played his part so perfectly.

“ _It’s okay sweetie._ ” Georges didn’t release his chin, actually taking a firmer hold—still painfully gentle—as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Philip’s forehead, cheek, and then his lips. Philip was fully awake by the time Georges' lips covered his. After a moment of hesitation, Philip decided just to enjoy it.

It was nice. Georges kissed him like he was treasure, treated with utmost care; Philip would expect it between romantic partners, not friends. George reached down with his free hand and closed the laptop, moving it off of his lap and onto the nightstand. With that out of the way, he carefully guided Philip onto his lap, the hand sliding around to the back of Philip’s neck.

Georges didn’t say anything until his lips had moved to his jawline, down his neck, and then pulled away to meet Philip’s eyes. “ _Papa and I lost you and your father once…we won’t let it happen again._ ”

Before Philip could register what he said, the young man was back at his neck and gently tugging his shirt to the side. A sharp pain bloomed at the juncture of his neck and Philip seized up, a choked noise escaping him. The pain grew as teeth forced their way further in until it stopped, was left as a slight throb. It was nothing like having blood drawn at the doctor, hurt far more and didn’t stop at a pinch. Philip could feel his blood being drawn out, and not as a trickle.

Georges pulled away slightly, long enough to try and shush him as one might with a startled animal or scared child, one hand gently running through Philip’s hair as a soothing motion. It didn’t help until their eyes met again, and Georges found fear, pain, and betrayal in Philip’s. Philip relaxed after a second, although the pain was still there. He felt like he might have been numb to it, or apathetic. Like when one is put into twilight for an in-office procedure. The pain is there, you can feel it to an extent, but you don’t care as much.

Georges went back to lap up what had escaped, to clean Philip off. He sank his teeth into his own wrist and then held it against the puncture marks on Philip. The blood needed to mix.

It wasn’t an instant change; Georges’ blood needed to reach Philip’s heart and then his lungs. When it did reach them, Philip immediately started to panic; the pain was different this time. His heart stopped, and moments later, no amount of gasping helped him breathe. The air went in, but nothing was sent through his body. George closed the wound on Philip’s neck and then held the writhing boy close, running a hand through his hair and rocking him slowly.

“ _Shhh, it’s okay, sweetie, it's okay. It’ll be over soon. The pain will stop, I promise._ ” He was right, in a way. It didn’t take long for Philip to fall limp in his arms. Even after Philip died, Georges continued to rock him. And when Philip opened his eyes, Georges smiled softly and pressed a kiss to Philip’s forehead.

“ _There you are darling. See? I told you it would stop._ ” One hand released Philip to reach up and caress his cheek. “ _You were beautiful then, and you’re beautiful in today’s time. Why the universe thought to put you with undeserving me, I will never understand._ ”

Philip only smiled tiredly at Georges. Yes, it had hurt like hell, but he was all right now, he guessed, and he had Georges. Georges would keep him safe, ensure he knew how to hunt. He would be there.

“ _You said…my father wouldn't be lost. What do you mean?_ ”

Georges gave him a gentle squeeze, the hand caressing Philip moving to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “ _You will see. You and your father will be happy, I promise. Papa and I have you._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ham and Laf decided that it would be great for their boys to be roommates in order to help them transition into college life. The first week is great, the boys get along perfectly.  
> And then Netflix and Chill happens at the end of the week, Georges hypnotizes Philip into letting him kiss Philip, and then turn him into a vampire while he's still a bit dazed.  
> Philip (and eventually Ham off screen), turns and then is sort of like a dopey thrall. He doesn't react to it in this, although I imagine after the daze left over from that nightmare wears off, he's going to throw a hissy fit. He and his dad both will throw fits.


	7. Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is NSFW, sort of. And it's sort of a threesome.  
> I'm building this chapter as a part 2 to another fic of mind: That Asshole Ghost Hamilton. A lot of crack. If you want to read it, click the link.  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/8193059  
> I'll also put this as its own fic and just make a series.  
> So far: Hamilton promised to make Thomas' life hell. When Hamilton died, he and Laurens decided to haunt Thomas so that they could make good on Hamilton's promise. Thomas just wants to get through a meeting without the two ghosts causing trouble. Or suggestively licking/nipping at his ears.  
> Boom. You're ready for this part 2.

Thomas was suffering.

He knew it.

Hamilton knew it.

That kid Laurens knew it.

No one else knew that Thomas was being followed by two ghosts, one of which was his worst enemy. Or, well, _was_ his worst. Adams and Burr were tied for first…of those alive.

He couldn’t exactly tell people that he was being followed by one of his worst enemies and his lackey. They’d throw him into prison or something, claim he was crazy, and then where would he be? Prison, actually.

But that was supposed to be rhetorical. Whoops.

 

Today’s torment, so far, was only frustrating, although it wasn’t as bad as it had been. The two ghosts were swiping people’s notes when they weren’t looking, crumpling them up, and then laughing when the person went back to their notes and found them a mess. There may have been a tiny doodle of a phallus, and Thomas wouldn’t admit it that it wasn’t half bad. For a doodle, of course. He was sure the kid was the one behind that.

He couldn’t really label Laurens as the only “kid” as Hamilton looked much younger than he had before he died, around the same age as his friend, Laurens. If Thomas had to guess, early twenties? Towards the end of the war but without the toll it took on everyone. He could kind of see why people would fawn over him. He did have a relatively handsome face…but he was still short, Thomas would think smugly.

He was grateful for the reprieve, needing a day off, of sorts.

Thomas wished it had stayed that way, that it wouldn’t be worse.

After getting ready for bed that night, Thomas had walked into his room to find Hamilton and Laurens doing—he couldn’t even say it—on his four-poster bed. Honestly, he thought he could have gone the rest of eternity with not seeing Hamilton’s ass, or Laurens’, as the kid had taken up position behind Hamilton.

“What…what the _hell_ are you doing? In my bed? Seriously?” Thomas threw a hand over his eyes and prayed for death, wishing that he could get the sight out of his mind. “That’s sodomy, you know.”

Laurens paused as Hamilton looked over his shoulder at Thomas. “What are they going to do? Hang us?”

Hamilton had a point, Thomas thought grudgingly. No one else could see it, and they were dead, so, there wasn’t much anyone could do.

“But in my bed?”

“You have the nicest bed in the house, Jefferson, of course we used your bed.” Laurens sat back, tugging Hamilton with him to sit on his lap. The two shared a look and then smirked. Hamilton got off long enough for Laurens to face Thomas before taking his place again, also facing Thomas. “Should we give him a show, darling?” Laurens nipped at Hamilton’s neck, shoulder, back up to his ear, all the while his eyes were trained on Thomas. Thomas couldn’t see his expression, but his eyes were smug enough to get the point across.

Hamilton smiled, eyes half lidded as they found Thomas’. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”

Thomas, in the right mindset, would be appalled at the audacity of the two men not only having a tumble in the (his) sheets but that they were watching him as Hamilton slowly started to grind back on Laurens. As it was, Thomas couldn’t help but stare, eyes trailing from head to toe and back, greedily taking in the lithe form (not malnourished from forgetting to eat or sleep deprived). They settled on Hamilton’s eyes, and after a split second, Thomas was moving forward, his feet carrying him to the bed without thought. Thomas knelt in front of them, hands moving to caress Hamilton’s legs.

His life was hell right now anyway, may has well enjoy it.


	8. Candy/Gore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the weekend so Saturdays have two options for prompts; there's spooky and then there's scary.  
> There's no actual gore in this, just body part shaped desserts.  
> And don't tell me that Herc and Peggy aren't you're brotp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is ridiculously short but I am a believer in "don't write what you don't need." Say what you want/need and get out.

Peggy and Hercules were pretty damn proud of their work. They stepped away from the island in Peggy’s kitchen and shot proud looks at their creations. There was going to be a party here tonight and Hercules and Peggy decided that they would try and blow everyone else’s attempts at cool food out of the water.

Together, they made a gelatin brain, a red velvet human heart, and eyeball peanut butter balls. Aside from John Laurens, the two of them were the next most artistic in their circle of friends. Both could bake, Peggy was all over the disgusting food theme, and Hercules was a perfectionist. When the two of them came together, they were usually an unstoppable team.

“Honestly, I love the glaze you made for the heart,” Peggy started.

“OK, but have you seen your brain? I have never seen anyone make anything out of Jell-O like that. How in the hell did you eliminate the translucent effect the stuff comes with? And that color…That is absolutely disgusting.” Hercules held up a fist and Peggy met it, the two of them “whooshing” as their hands popped away.

“Dude, let’s just say we are both awesome…”

“Who are we lying about here?” Angelica waltzed into the kitchen and stopped short when she saw the food. “OK, maybe not lying…you guys made all that?”

Peggy motioned to the mess on hers and Hercules’ clothes. “Who else, Ang?”

Angelica took a closer look, studying the weirdly accurate details and shaking her head. “All right. You guys rock; I agree.” With that, she swiped one of the eyeballs and scurried out of the kitchen before Peggy could kill her for taking the party food early.


	9. Haunted House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lafayette is a saint, Washington needs a hug, and Thomas has a new nickname for Hamilton after Peggy playfully calls him Pork Chop ('cause HAMilton, get it? I'm not funny, sorry.)
> 
> Ships found in this:  
> LafxWash  
> HamxLiza  
> LaurxMull  
> ThomasxAng if you squint although Aaron is third wheeling.
> 
> This contains mentions of PTSD and panic attacks caused by war flashbacks.  
> I don't think it's enough to cause a problem, but I'm not you guys so I wanted to be on the safe side.

No one could have predicted the reaction to the jump scares, the noise, and the flashing lights. Of any of the ex-military in their circle of friends, it should have only been Alexander that had an issue. It was a surprise when he had the least trouble of the five of them. George had the worst reaction, and it lasted long after they left the fair and went home.

 

Everything had started out alright. George, Gilbert, Alexander, John, Hercules, the sisters, Aaron, and Thomas had decided to meet up at the state fair to enjoy the food, the horrible shows, and food eating contests,  and the rides that should never have passed inspection. There was even a corn maze, where they paired off and sent one at a time into the maze while the others stayed at the entrance, timing them.

 

Alex and Eliza smoked the rest of their friends, smirking as they high-fived when the final times were listed. Everyone owed them a funnel cake.

 

When they got to the haunted house, not one with moving floors, that's set up on the back of the truck, but in an actual building, the bets started flowing as to who would scream first. Listed as the second best haunted house in the state, everyone knew that someone would squeal.

 

Gilbert and George couldn’t believe they let their friends convince them to do this one. However, they dutifully waited their turn in line, hands intertwined. Their whole party talked about it in line, how everyone would go in pairs. Alex and Eliza had already gone in, as had Angelica and Thomas and Aaron. James and Peggy would be next while John and Hercules would be after Gilbert and George.

 

It started out innocently enough; there was just enough lighting to see the neon tape on the floor, pointing out which direction to walk, and they could see the outlines of various pieces of furniture as the attraction was decorated to look like an antebellum plantation house.

 

George squeezed his boyfriend's hand. Truth be told, he was nervous about the place; he wasn't fond of flashing lights or loud noises, too many memories. Those memories bit him in the butt when they made it to the first room, and the whole floor rattled beneath them after a thunderous crash. He wouldn't admit to jumping, startled, and having to count his breaths. It was just a floor, just for show, it wasn't car bombs, and the crackling in the room they were approaching wasn't gunfire. His grip on Gilbert's hand tightened, just enough for his boyfriend to take notice.

 

"If we want to sneak out through a side door, we can," he whispered, leaning over to be heard over the noise. "No one has to know we bailed on this cheesy thing."

 

George smiled gratefully, knowing that Gilbert was trying to give him an out without naming the problem. "I'll be fine."

 

He couldn't see Gilbert's face, but he knew doubt could be found there. Him startling at the noises, not even at people jumping out at him (yet), was a sign that he should leave before it gets worse. War flashbacks would not be his friend in here, and it certainly would not be his friend when he went to bed. Their biggest concern was that he might fall into a deeper level of fear that would lead him to lash out if someone jumped out at them. Lashing out at the actors was really bad, they got enough from idiots who thought it was OK to touch them (i.e. hit/punch/kick). Coming from a veteran would be far worse if he panicked.

 

Gilbert tugged him to the side and told him to wait a moment until John and Hercules caught up. When they did, Gilbert pulled them to the side to join them. John and Hercules didn't need to ask or look at George to know what was up; John was the first to tug out his phone and earbuds. Gilbert kissed his cheek and sent them on their way. Turning back to George, he wordlessly found music and passed it to him. It was a hit to George's pride, something that made him want to snap at Gilbert that he was fine and that they could move on, but there were other people to consider. There was himself to consider. He swallowed his pride and popped the buds into his ears, tucking the phone into his pocket and taking Gilbert's hand again.

 

It wasn't perfect, it couldn't block out everything, but it was enough to keep a panic attack at bay until they made it to the exit.

 

When they emerged, George quietly thanked John as he passed him his stuff back. Hercules, John, and Alex smiled softly at him, understanding his problem and knowing to play the role of silent support until he wanted them there. The others knew not to ask, though it may be because Gilbert glared, silently daring them to bring it up.

 

Alex broke the tense silence first, "Who's up for ice cream?"

 

Groaning, Eliza poked his stomach, "You just had a funnel cake, how could you possibly eat any more sweets?"

 

"Babe, you know me, God blessed me with a second stomach whose sole purpose is to digest dessert."

 

"How the hell you're not diabetic..." Thomas folded his arms and glanced at Aaron, Angelica, and James, looking for support.

 

Angelica did not take his side, not when Peggy jumped in and linked her arm in Alex's, dragging him off to find ice cream. "I like the way you think Pork Chop."

 

A snort from Thomas and, "I might start using that," followed by Alex flipping him off ended that conversation.

 

The rest began to follow, all but Gilbert and George who said they'd catch up in a moment. They maneuvered their way to stand behind the booths, out of sight, where George rested his head on Gilbert's shoulder.

 

"Thank you."

 

"Anytime Love."


	10. Gothic Horror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wash and Ham are sorta like supernatural hunters in this? However, they only hunt things called The Others.
> 
> There is some violence in this one, a few brief moments of it when one or both of them are fighting the things.
> 
> Assume that this is in the canon era.

They're right about a woman scorned.  
They're dangerous, like a Valkyrie from legend, they'd swoop in and run you through mercilessly.  
But they couldn't hold a candle to this adversary.  
Which is how Washington found himself here, tied up and hoping that Hamilton would find him in time without being caught himself.  
He and Hamilton. Hunter and Apprentice. Unlikely friends during the two wars that were happening simultaneously; the revolution against the British, and a battle between man and The Others. The British? They were child's play compared to The Others.  
The Others were a horrifying mix of evil and deadly, usually disguised as women claiming to be bringing aid to Washington's troops (at the moment, although they took on different roles throughout history). He knew about their kind; his brother made sure he knew what to look for and how to kill them. It was their lanterns and black eyes that gave it away.  
They knew not to hunt in the day. Who would carry a lantern under the afternoon sun? Have it packed for travel, sure, but not to be used in the light of day.  
And the eyes? No one had eyes that soulless.  
Washington had seen a few of them over the last year and knew that he had not managed to slay all of them when he'd get word that someone died from a wild animal attack. A random attack in a random place, the body shredded and the face the only thing left untouched. It was clean, free of blood and marks. That was how you knew it was The Others and not a rabid animal in the woods or fields. As they ripped you apart, they loved to see your face, unobstructed.  
  
When he'd met Hamilton, he knew the young man had seen them before, had possibly even met one and walked away without a scratch. The boy had to have fought one off at some point, what with how he would always give the woods a wide berth when the sun wasn't up and was wary of any woman that approached their camps. There was a haunted expression anytime Washington caught Hamilton's odd behavior.  
Yes, Hamilton had seen something.  
It was difficult not to see it.  
It was not until one evening when they had gone for a private walk that he had proof of it. They both saw the light in the woods, felt the slight tug that urged them to walk towards it, to walk towards what felt like home.  
Hamilton later said that he found the call easy to brush off. He'd never known what a real home felt like, and that's how he knew to stay away from it. It was unfamiliar, that warmth and comfort, and that was his warning flag.  
At the time, they had both drawn their pistols in tandem and checked that they were loaded, training them on the source of the light as they inched closer to the edge of the wood. The light seemed to meet them there, and the one carrying it was an elderly lady, one who claimed to be delivering a letter to someone who knew her grandson. She all but ignored Washington, seeming interested in his young aide, too interested for Washington's liking. Hamilton and Washington hardly glanced at one another before they fired, putting two bullets through her head.  
A hiss and whine, high pitched and loud to their ears only, escaped the creature as it burned into a pile of dust.  
"When did you first meet one?"  
"When it took my brother from me. I had nothing but a fishing pike to run it through with. My brother was gone, and the creature was feasting on him by the time I got there." Hamilton put his gun back in his holster, not meeting Washington's eye as he did. He didn't often open up about his past, and despite their friendship, Washington knew very little. "One would think that they wouldn't occupy the islands, but these foul things are everywhere, it seems."  
Washington put his own weapon away, staring at where the creature had been moments before. The fact that his friend, hardly a grown man, was so callous to the matter, disturbed him. It wasn't right that the young knew about these things. "May I ask how old you were?"  
"Nine. My brother and I had gone fishing and were on our way home late in the evening." He was younger than Washington had expected, which was a painful thought. Hamilton put away his stoic mask and smiled easily at Washington, "Shall we go back? I think I am in need of a drink."  
"I thought I had ordered that there would be no alcohol here." Washington's lips tugged into a small smirk.  
Hamilton's smile broke into a satisfied grin, coupled with a light laugh, whispering secretively, "Well, just don't tell my boss and we should be OK."  
The two shared a chuckle and Washington set a hand on Hamilton's back, guiding him back towards his tent. "I won't tell him if you don't."

After that, the two took more regular evening walks, always armed and ready for an attack from The Others. Washington shared the knowledge his brother had taught him, passing the torch, as it were, to Hamilton, who soaked it up greedily. The Others weren't the only things out there, but none of them bothered humans unless provoked. The Others were the savage exception.  
The odd thing was when they did go hunting; The Others would always focus on Hamilton. Washington didn't know if it was because he was young and small, looking like less of a threat, or something else. Either way, it haunted him more as time went on and it kept happening. The few times they had crossed paths with other beings had the same results. Everything and everyone would look at Hamilton with the oddest expression or with more interest than was normal...  
  
They'd done well over the next year, picking the creatures off one by one, and there was that one time where they were up against five of them, wanting to avenge their kin. That had been mildly terrifying, but they had made it out alive with only a few bumps and bruises. Or, well, Hamilton had a broken wrist, his writing hand, and he moped for weeks until the doctor cleared him. He was insufferable.  
Not to mention, he couldn't help Washington.  
When he was free of the brace and could write and fight again, Washington breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't like having to hunt on his own in the evenings, not after growing used to Hamilton's presence at his side. Hamilton would have been useless with a bum wrist; he would be a liability. Washington couldn't keep Hamilton safe AND get the job done. Sure, they watch each others' backs, but they couldn't put their full attention on one another in a fight; they could only remain aware of the other's presence so that they didn't accidentally shoot them.  
  
A few more weeks of this is what led him here, bound and used as bait for Hamilton. The both of them had taken out dozens of the creatures and, like the time when Hamilton had broken his wrist, they were out for revenge. They'd beat and clawed at him, giving him a taste of what was coming; Washington hoped Hamilton got him out of this before that happened.  
He knew the kid was an excellent marksman, and his tactics in sneak attacks were the bain of some people's existence (the victims of a raid), but he was a wonder when he was in action. Washington knew that Hamilton should have his own battalion with his skill and ability to plan for anything, but he selfishly didn't want to lose him. Hamilton was too valuable on too many fronts to lose in the front lines. This adventure was pushing it.  
But the beauty of his abilities is something one must witness to understand.  
He had his usual two pistols, and this time, he also brought his dagger. The two of them rarely brought them as it was too risky to have close combat with The Others, although, they should as one never knows what could happen. Washington knew it was cocky, which made it dangerous. After seeing Hamilton materialize from the shadows, blade raised until it was embedded in one of their skulls, he decided that yes, they should bring them more often.  
The boy fought as he may have on the streets growing up; he was ruthless and used anything and everything he could get his hands on like a cornered cat. It was inhuman, Washington once thought. Hackles raised, claws out, and flitting this way and that unpredictably; it was hard to land a hit on him in most fights. In close combat, he'd tease you, tire you out, before he'd down you with a single strike.  
In this one, he downed one with his initial attack; his gun was raised in the other hand, and a bullet ripped through another's head with a crack. He took aim with it once more, using the last bullet before he had to reload, and promptly dropped it to pull out the other. After wounding one of them, he disappeared back into the shadows and slipped up behind Washington to cut the bindings on his wrist. Dropping a gun into Washington's hand, Hamilton disappeared once more. Together, the two of them took out the small gathering of Others.  
Washington prided himself on his simplicity in a fight. Take them down and move on. Hamilton, as described, was like a cat; there was an elegance with his movements, even as he painted the ground with dust. Despite their differences in attacks, they had practiced, synchronized movements. They always knew where the other was in a fight, even as they dove into a whirlwind of chaotic motion.  
Maybe that's why they appreciated fighting side by side rather than with someone else. No one else would be capable of matching their compatibility.

With the fight won, the pair searched the surrounding area for any more of them before they met back in the middle and collapsed next to a tree together. Hamilton groaned dramatically and lazily turned his head to smile at Washington. "Not bad for an old man, but I didn't see you as the damsel in distress type. I could get used to it."  
"One more word of that and you'll have KP duty for the next week."  
"You wouldn't dare, sir. You like having me around too much. Besides, I doubt anyone would trust me around the food. There are too many enemies whose food and drink I'd be tempted to piss in."  
They shared another smile before they sighed and went back to catching their breath.  
"Seriously, though, are you alright sir?" Hamilton gestured to Washington's wounds with a frown.  
"I'll live, but we should get back so they can be tended to." Washington pushed himself up slowly and offered Hamilton a hand up, "And then I think we both deserve a drink and a little extra sleep."  
"I couldn't agree more sir." Hamilton fell into step with Washington after collecting his guns, wiping them down as they walked.  
Washington broke the silence, "I have something I'd like to ask you, Hamilton." When Hamilton gestured for him to continue, the general forced out his question. "Do you know why they look at you the way they do? And not just them, but other creatures and beings."  
The young man smiled slightly and gave a tiny nod, "I have a theory, sir." The general looked at him expectantly, and Hamilton responded with, "It's because I'm so damn cute."  
Washington wouldn't get a straight answer out of him tonight; he had expected as much. Hamilton didn't divulge his secrets easily.  
"I hope that you can trust me with it someday."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this several times until I was happy with it. I've left it open for maybe a part two or something, at least where it concerns why Hamilton is so dern interesting to the supernatural.


	11. Skeletons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Text convo featuring my favorite Halloween song. Totally serious.
> 
> Porky: Hamilton  
> Lizzy-mouse: Eliza (Idk but I wanted the whole Minnie Mouse thing for her)  
> Baguette: Lafayette  
> Mullet: Mulligan  
> Turtleman: Laurens  
> FroHo: Jefferson (Hamilton gave him that name bc of his big hair and the man truly is a ho)  
> CarWash: Washington (I see Hamilton and Laurens walking into his office and catch him dancing to Car Wash and it sticks. That poor man will never live it down.)

_Porky started a new group: Skeleton Crew_

 

 **Porky:** So hey guys, I’ve got something I need to share with you

 **Lizzy-mouse** : alex i swear that if its that stupid video you sent me earlier…

 **Porky** : It’s not!

 **Baguette** : Please not that song.

 **Mullet** : im with them. Not that damn song bc i cant get it out of my head

 **Turtleman** : idk about u guys but i like that song. its catchy.

 **Porky** : It’s not the song dammit. It’s something else.

 **FroHo** : Hamilton, I swear to the Good Lord above that if it’s that song, I WILL kill you.

 **Porky** : Wtf guys calm down. It’s just a damn song and I’m not sending you that one.

 **Porky** : Here

 **Porky** : <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PBHvJrVma8Y>

**Porky** : I’m sending you the remixed 10 hour version

 **Baguette** : I hate you

 **FroHo** : Hamilton, I’m on my way to your dorm room, you had better open that damn door when I get there.

 **Turtleman** : isdk why you guys hate it.

 **Mullet** : Some of us are human.

 **Lizzy-mouse** : Alex, please don’t send that to Peggy.

 **Porky** : Too late.

 **Baguette** : Why do we love you?

 **Porky** : Because I’m really damn cute.

 **FroHo** : More like really damn annoying.

 **Porky** : No one asked you Jefferson.

 **FroHo** : You did when you included me in this chat.

 **CarWash** : How do I make it stop? I can’t close out of the window.


	12. Cats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LafxHercXJohn because I love the three of them together. Like, they're that disgusting couple that gives you a cavity just looking at them. The moony eyes and stupid smiles and the too gentle touches and it's just gross, but at the same time, like, wow, those people are so happy. I'm glad they're happy so maybe I'm just jealous...  
> There are lewd comments but nothing more.  
> Herc and Laf like John dressed as a cat.

“Why am I wearing this again?” John looked down at the shiny cat suit that his lovers had thrown at him. Sure, he looked good in it but… “Who am I supposed to be, Cat Woman?”

“No, babe, we just wanted to see you in a tight outfit with a tail and ears.” Hercules, grinning, leaned back against the couch, hands behind his head as he let his eyes wander shamelessly over John’s lean form. “And damn you wear it well. The freckles give you that innocent look and then bam! Sex god body.”

“Pretty sure Laf has the sex god body.”

“Thank you, darling.” He and John high-fived as Gilbert made his way to join Hercules on the couch. “See Herc? Someone appreciates fine art around here.”

Rolling his eyes, Hercules leaned over to share a loving kiss with Gilbert, “I can appreciate it just fine. I can appreciate art without clothes, I can appreciate it in the shower, and I can appreciate it when it’s covered in flour from trying to bake cupcakes.”

Gilbert playfully shoved him away before returning his attention to the third in their sickly sweet party. “Go ahead John, give us a spin.” He motioned with his finger and stuck his nose up, pretending to be snobbish about it.

“Be glad I love you assholes,” John grumbled, turning slowly and letting them see his profile, the back, and then the front when he faced them again. “Happy? Can I change now because this is itchy?”

“Only if you keep the tail and ears on.” Hercules, still grinning, pushed himself to his feet and stalked forward until there was hardly an inch between him and John. It shouldn’t turn John on so much, to have someone try to tower over him, but it did and he felt his knees weaken.

“No ears and tail. Not tonight.”

The grin fell into an easy smile as Hercules scooped him up bridal style and carried him back to the couch. “Fine, we’ll let you get rid of them…but Laf and I are helping.”

“Yes, I agree with Hercules. We’ll relieve you of that annoying, itchy abomination.”

John knew he’d lost, not that he cared. He had the two loves of his life focusing their attention on him and he’d come out on top because of it. Well, he’d come, but he wouldn’t be on top.


	13. Pumpkins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We needed some Lams.
> 
> Also, the Charlie Brown holiday movies are gold and you need to watch them. Your life will be incomplete until you see those films.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk how I feel about this one. Did I have enough "pumpkins" in it?

“Hold up, what do you mean you haven’t seen The Great Pumpkin? Man, you can’t…what kind of childhood did you have?” Alex gave John a look, who winced when he realized what he said was…too far. “Look, Charlie Brown is a classic cartoon and this is one of the best ones out there. You are going to sit with me and watch it while we eat pumpkin seeds and candy corn and you are going to like it.”

Ale wasn’t too sure about that, but he’d be a good boyfriend and let John do what he wanted, if it’d make him happy. “You keep that nastiness away from me. I just want the candy corn.”

“You don’t like pumpkin seeds either? Are you even human?”

“Are you?”

They continued their bickering as they gathered everything for their impromptu movie night and didn’t stop until Alex kissed John to shut him up. The pair crashed on the floor in a pile of blankets and pillows, snacks in hand, and curled closer together. After fiddling with the TV, John found the film on the DVR and started it.

“I didn’t get to see any of these growing up. I heard about them a little when I got here but…I was too busy and invested in others things to worry about it.” Alex nudged at John’s arm with his shoulder until John got the hint and threw his arm over Alex’s shoulders. He tucked himself in against John’s side and sighed.

“Well, we’re gonna change that. We’ll watch this, then Charlie Brown Thanksgiving next month, and then Charlie Brown Christmas when the semester ends.” John pressed a light kiss to Aex’s temple, “I’m going to spoil you rotten with American traditions, just you wait.”

With a snort, Alex accepted his fate.

At the end of the movie, Alex had to admit that John was right. The movie was great for an old cartoon. “Do they have others that aren’t for the holidays?”

“Alex, I’m going to take you on a magical journey.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” They were silent a moment before, “Who the hell thinks that there’s a Great Pumpkin? Man, that kid is a loser.”

“I don’t know, he kind of reminds me of you.” When John had an elbow to his side, he apologized with a kiss and a quiet “I love you.”

They picked up their food mess, only to come back to the nest they’d made to crash into a pile, John laying behind Alex as they flipped to another film. The two were asleep in under five minutes.


	14. Vampires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How does a Madison seduce his Jefferson?  
> A sway of the hips, a smirk, and a lot of vampire makeup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Jeffmads meets vampires meets cheesy School Halloween Haunted House trope.  
> I regret nothing.

The university decided to host a Halloween celebration and the LGBTQIA club set up a haunted house in the Student Activity Center (SAC). Everyone seemed to flock there, finding that it was probably better than most of the popular haunted house attractions in the city. The students in the club and even professors (the likely reason it was popular; Ph.D. professors dressed as zombies? Who can beat that?) partnered with the cosmetology and theater departments to put it together. They all funneled most of their club funds into it and sent out hordes of fundraising letters to get enough for it; one student also set up a fundraising page. Within the first hour, they had a line out the door and down the sidewalk forty or fifty people deep.  
But the excitement from behind the scenes started about an hour before they were set to open, when everyone was in costuming and still trying to finish getting ready.  
One James Madison was selected for the part of vampire one out of the six they had lined up. This wasn't a problem. Not at all. In fact, despite his small size, he managed a much larger presence in how he carried himself. He filled the room, chin held high and, to everyone's surprise, looking as if he could seduce anyone he chose. His first victims were for practice. His real goal was to attract Thomas' attention, having his eye on his best friend for what felt like a century but had only been a few years.  
It turned out to be easier than he thought.  
Thomas was meant to be a vampire thrall, and he fell into his role naturally when James first descended upon him. James' eyes were dark and piercing, causing Jefferson to freeze on the spot, as James moved fluidly, more like glided, towards his best friend. Thomas swallowed nervously and licked his lips, which he caught James' eyes flitting to the motion. James' lips formed a small smirk, and he didn't take his eyes off of Thomas' lips, even when they were chest to chest.  
One hand reach up to cup Thomas' cheek, gently guiding Thomas down to meet him. Lips brushed together, light and teasing, and James dipped his head down to press a light kiss on the bite marks that someone painted on Thomas' neck. He heard his friend's breath hitch, followed by a small shudder. James' eyes glanced up to see that Thomas' eyes had fallen shut and a blush, faint from his dark skin, had spread across cheeks. His gaze slowly trailed down Thomas' cheek to his parted lips, which drew James to them like a thirsty man to an oasis.  
He grazed his lips against Thomas' once more but never putting any pressure on them in a full kiss. To test the waters, James drew back a hair, and when he noticed Thomas instinctively following him, he grinned. Good, Thomas wanted it. Thomas seemed to pout and his brows furrowed when he couldn't find James. When he opened his eyes to peer down at his friend, James was pleased to see how dark his eyes had become, pupils blown, wanting.  
That answered the question of "should he continue"?  
Pushing himself up onto his toes, James finally gave him a kiss; it was slow, measured and gentle. One of Thomas' hands drifted up to rest on the back of James' head, pulling him closer. They didn't part until they heard John Laurence faking a gag and giggling off to the side. Aside from that interruption, they didn't notice anything else, just taking in the other as they shuddered and struggled to keep themselves in check. All they wanted to do was find the nearest closet and continue their little "adventure."  
"Later?" Thomas breathed, smiling shyly.  
"Well, you are supposed to be under my influence, yes? There's a couch in our portion of the attraction, and we might be able to get away with continuing this. How does that plan sound?" James pressed one more kiss.  
"Hell yes."  
  
The event went swimmingly and the section that housed the vampires was one of the favorites. Who didn't like to see vampires and their victims making out a little?


	15. Autumn Leaves or Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn't like leaf piles?  
> Kid!Ang/Liz/Pegs  
> Angelica gets the Big Sister of the Year award.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is super short but fluffy.  
> So much fluff.

Angelica loved seeing them having fun and smiling when they played. Watching her sisters giggling and squealing when they rolled down the hill and into the pile of leaves made the hard work worth it.  
After taking their father's leafblower to the yard, Angelica popped back into the house to call for her sisters where they were finishing their breakfasts. It was a surprise for them, and she had only told them to put something on to get dirty in. When they came outside to join her, they saw the enormous leaf pile at the foot of the hill on the west side of the family estate and jumped their sister. They hugged her tightly before they took off running for the hill.  
Angelica had also grabbed a few cardboard boxes that she ripped apart to make "sleds." She wound up using one of those to slid down the hill and into the pile of leaves when it was her turn.  
When they were exhausted and needed a break, they met their mother at the door, who had three mugs of hot chocolate waiting on them.  
All in all, it was the perfect way to start the day.


	16. Graveyard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's that time of year again, time for centuries old Aaron to perform the ritual to retain his immortality.  
> Enter Alexander, the mildly annoying but also adorable college student and victim that Aaron has set his sights on. Aaron always waits for the idiot that took the dare to go into the graveyard on Halloween night.  
> Alexander may be intelligent, but he IS an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess trigger warnings for this ficlet would be there's a tad bit of blood, the use of a knife to get said blood, thoughts of murder, implied passed murders.  
> Oh, and creepy Burr.
> 
> I meant for this to be dark, stay dark, and have a bad ending, but it turned out a little sappy because honestly, I've been mean to Burr so far in this fic and the poor guy deserves a little happiness. This wound up being almost 10 pages in Word... Whoops. I also left it open ended in case I wanted to continue it at another time.  
> Lemme know if you see glaring mistakes as I am a word vomit writer.  
> Or if someone else wants to continue the story? Just credit me and link back to this chapter for the idea you're using.  
> The beginning of this is inspired by an RP I did, but for a different fandom.

One would be amazed by how many idiots came into the cemeteries at night on Halloween. Usually, it would be young people on a dare but sometimes it was someone older, though Aaron didn’t know why they would venture in for a joke; death was no laughing matter.

Not that it mattered, someone had to be sacrificed, bleed, for the spell every year, and he wasn’t picky. And Aaron wasn’t dumb enough to use the same cemetery twice and was more than happy get out a bit to pick one and set up. Runes were drawn, words were muttered, and various items to fuel the spell would be added. The final touch was always the sacrifice.

The best choice, of course, followed the clichéd “sacrifice a virgin,” but anyone would do. So long as blood was spilled and a life was taken (he didn't always kill; sometimes he showed mercy and let them live, after making sure they wouldn’t remember him), the spell would be fueled enough for him to complete it.

What was the purpose of this spell? Well, it wouldn’t do to give away all of the secrets, not unless you’re taking your final breath before you begin to choke on your own blood... Oh, all right, fine. The spell is to keep himself alive. Aaron hadn't lived through several centuries without help. It took a little bit of work to look this good at his age. Besides, the alternative was crumbling into a pile of dust and bones within two days of Halloween if he didn't perform the spell.

Only once he had everything ready would he begin to set his trap, a single candle to attract someone’s attention. Anyone would do. So long as he could finish the casting, he wouldn’t be picky. Once he noticed them coming, he'd light the rest.

A flick of his wrist had a candle flicker to life nearby, not close enough to show the circle, but close enough where it wouldn’t be too difficult to drag them into the circle if need be.

It didn’t take as long as he thought it would to lure some idiot into his trap. It ended up being a young man with his hair pulled back in a messy bun whose head was tilted to the side in curiosity. Hey, a strange light in a dark cemetery is bound to come with something interesting and maybe even a little scary. So long as it wasn’t one of those damn clowns he kept hearing about that were messing with people at night, Alexander thought he'd be ok. And now that he was thinking about it, Alexander wondered if it was wise of him to take that dare. He had to stay in the graveyard until after 3 am, to ensure that he passed the “witching hours,” as his friends had called them.

He had what, another four hours to go? He brought a small backpack with snacks, water, flashlight, and his PS Vita (fully charged, thank you very much) that his step-parents had given him as a high school graduation present. Oh, and a can of pepper spray in case there was an idiot that tried to attack him. But Alexander knew he’d be just fine for the night; he was only going to grab a park bench along one of the sidewalk paths that wound around the graves and camp out there for the remainder of the dare.

But now he had something far more interesting to do; investigating the owner of that light near the more wooded area. This meant that he was breaking out the pepper spray in his pocket, just in case, right? One could never be too careful. Shining his light ahead of him to watch for anything on the path that he didn’t want to trip on, Alexander approached the source of the light. He slowed his pace the closer he got to it to get a better look around him, to see if he could find someone.

There was someone there near the lights, a young man that looked to be close to his age (first or second year of college?). He looked to be dressed in red linen slacks and a white shirt; the guy was well dressed for someone in a muddy graveyard not attending a funeral. The hodgepodge of things placed in a circle caught his attention when he was close enough. There were strange markings everywhere and an old as balls book in the young man's hand. A warlock then? Or something.

Their eyes met. Aaron's expression one of calm and aloof while Alexander's was obviously curious. After a moment of neither of them speaking, Aaron broke the silence.

"Can I help you?"

Alexander snapped out of his curiosity induced trance and smiled slightly at the stranger. "Um, s-sorry to interrupt. I didn't know you'd be..." he made a vague motion at Aaron's setup, "working tonight? I was...just trying to figure out who else was locked in here this evening. Yours seems to be willingly and with a purpose...um, I uh, I'm sorry again, and I'll let you get back to it?"

Alexander had rambled, and he knew it. Could he help that he was nervous? It was the middle of the night in a cemetery, which was bad enough, but now he found some dude practicing magic or something out here.

"You didn't interrupt me; don't worry." The young man walked around his work and up to Alexander, hand extended. "I'm Aaron, you?"

After a split second, Alexander took his hand and gave it a firm shake, although neither of them let go immediately. "I'm Alexander, nice to meet you?" He didn't mean for it to be a question.

Both wound up staring at one another awkwardly, taking the other in, and then Aaron slowly released Alexander's hand, purposefully dragging the tips of his fingers over Alexander's palm.

"We'll see." Smirking slightly at the faint pink on Alexander's cheeks, he motioned to the circle, spinning a half truth, "I'm...I guess you could say that I'm honoring the spirits tonight. I need to thank them for their generous guidance for the past year. You're welcome to stay if you want."

Alexander thought the man was off his rocker, didn't believe in magic...to a point. He'd grown up on various stories from the older ladies of his town, tales about spirits and which were good and which needed to be avoided at all costs. He wouldn't admit to the part of him that was superstitious and wary of this sort of thing.

However, curiosity won out, and he slowly nodded. "Where would you like me to sit? I don't want to be in your way."

Aaron wandered to a headstone where his bag was resting to pull out a blanket. He tossed it to Alexander, "If you want to sit where you are, that's fine. I doubt you could do any harm to what I have out already."

A quick nod and Alexander was unfolding the blanket, laying it out to the side of the man's circle and dropping it backpack onto the ground beside it. His butt followed although he did his best to keep his feet off of the blanket; Alexander didn't want to stain it with mud. Aaron silently appreciated the considerate act.

Kneeling, Aaron started to adjust a few things, pretend to be busy while he continued the conversation.

"I don't mind if we talk for the moment; I'm still setting up." Aaron flashed the other a small smile, which Alexander thought warmed his previously cool features nicely. He had the odd thought that the man looked nice when he smiled. "So, who roped you into hanging out here tonight?"

Alexander laughed nervously, tipping his chin to his chest and fiddling with his shoelaces. "That obvious huh?"

"Well, you have your diddy bag there, and you're dressed for a chilly night. You look to be about twenty or so. My guess is college buddies offered you a dare and your pride wouldn't let you back down from the challenge." Aaron stopped, and his smile turned into a grin, "Pride comes before the fall, Mr. Alexander." Which meant that he had the fool to slice open here in a bit.

Alexander thought that the smile was a little sharp. He figured that maybe it was because the man was taunting him or something.

He went back to picking at his shoes with a sigh, "Yeah. Twenty dollars a piece if I stay until about 3:01. I could use the money, but I hate getting a handout. At least this way, I'm sort of working for it. I mean, not really, but it helps curb the discomfort of it. Besides, it's creepy as hell out here."

Here he paused a moment before continuing with, "But I brought snacks and things to keep me busy for the next few hours. I'm not too worried about boredom, I guess. So why this cemetery? Do you live around here?"

Aaron ran out of things to fidget with and joined Alexander on the blanket. "Um, no. I live a few hours away, but I have family in here, and that connection helps with things like this." Which having family graves to work on did help, but that's not why he was here, and he didn't have any family in any of these plots.

"Quite a trip. Worth it, then, I'm guessing?"

Aaron nodded and pulled his knees up to his chest, "Yes. Completely worth it, but I can't do anything for another, what time is it, 11:36? So another 24-ish minutes."

Silence fell between the two, and it was oddly comfortable, despite the awkward beginnings, and after a while, Alexander pulled out two mini water bottles and a pack of peanut butter crackers.

"Hungry?" he asked, holding it out.

Now, Aaron was expecting many things tonight, but he was not expecting his victim (even if Alexander didn't know it yet) to share his food with him. Yes, some of the victims in the past had been friendly enough. The nicer ones tended to make it out alive. If Alexander kept it up, Aaron might stick with that. Hell, he could probably just ask Alexander if he wanted to help out. The young man was curious enough about his little project, so maybe it would work.

"I would like some, yes, thank you." Aaron took one of the bottles and sipped at the water while he waited on Alexander to rip open the package. When he had opened it, he held it out for Aaron to take one, who thanked him again.

More silence followed as they nibbled on their crackers.

It wasn't so bad, having company for a little while. Aaron wouldn't be able to stay after he finished tonight. Quick clean up, wipe things down for any trace of himself and then go on his way. Staying was dangerous. Staying meant getting caught. Staying meant attachment, and he didn't have any place for that in his life.

They finally started up the conversation again, Alexander liking the silence for only so long. Aaron quickly discovered that the man was a busy one, and passionately animated when he got going on a rant of some sort. Aaron finished eating and then hugged his knees again, resting his chin on them while he listened to Alexander talk about what his major was and what he wanted to do with it. He was ambitious; Aaron would give him that, and maybe a little impulsive, but he seemed to be intelligent and have a good heart for the career he wanted.

His conclusion was this: Alexander was kind, intelligent, ambitious, and a humanitarian, but he had horrible tastes in sweaters and peanut butter snacks.

Eh, maybe he'd spare this one, even if he didn't agree with everything the young man wanted to stand for. Aaron was so used to hiding in the shadows, making sure that he never drew attention to himself, that Alexander's energetic and boisterous nature was a little much after a while. Exhausting would be a good way to describe it, although it was endearing.

Aaron shook himself of the thought. He had work to do tonight, and he wouldn't be able to stay here when he finished. After this evening, he and Alexander would never see each other again. At least, not and Alexander remember who Aaron was. To be on the safe side, Aaron would stay away, even after he wiped Alexander's memory.

So, back to reminding himself of his "no attachments" rule.

When the time came, Aaron pulled out his book and flipped to the pages he needed. Although he knew it by heart, this was a life or death thing, and he couldn't afford to have a moment of memory lapse.

"What are your thoughts on blood for spells and rituals?" he asked quietly.

Alexander stopped talking and avoided Aaron's eye for a moment as he thought about how to answer his question. "Um, well, where I'm from, there's a lot of superstitions that the old ladies tell the kids and all. Anything using blood is usually looked down on..."

"But?" Aaron prompted.

"I mean, it's your beliefs, not mine. Yeah, I'm a bit wary of the whole thing, but I guess I'm not totally against it...so long as it's not to summon something vile that'll gobble us up." Alexander flashed him a teasing grin at the end, which Aaron matched with his own.

"No, there won't be monsters to gobble us up. I've got wards to prevent anything evil coming around here." Aaron stood and headed for his bag again, "I was asking because I forgot the blood I needed, and my own won't work...I was just...afraid to ask you. Most people don't like the thought of magic anyway, but to practice it? And to use blood? It's a wonder I haven't suffered worse for it."

There was a beat of tense silence, of Aaron hoping Alexander would agree so that he wouldn't have to force the kindhearted man and Alexander questioning if this was safe or not.

And then, "So you're asking for some of mine?"

"Yes."

Alexander thought on it again but didn't notice Aaron beginning to fidget. This was taking too long, and he needed to get started; the guy needed to hurry up if Aaron was going to keep his immortality. But finally, blessedly, Alexander finally agreed, although his answer was soft, hesitant.

With a quick nod, Aaron took up his position and motioned for Alexander to join him. To make sure Alexander knew he wasn't going to die from catching something on the knife, Aaron cleaned the blade where Alexander could see him disinfect it. Alcohol first, let it dry, and then Aaron passed it to Alexander.

"I'm going to read this out. I want you to wait until I motion for you to cut your palm. The blood has to go there," Aaron pointed out where in the circle,  "and I want you to clench and unclench your hand over it, just a few times to let a little blood fall, and then you can pull back. When you finish, there's stuff in my bag that we can use to clean you up. I'll help you when I'm done with the spell. I shouldn't be at it more than a few more seconds after you finish; the blood is the last bit."

Alexander looked down at the knife, noting the age of it. His guess was that it was passed down through the family. Aaron would tell you differently, if he spilled that secret at all.

When Alexander met Aaron's gaze again, he smiled, "Sounds good. Ready when you are." Thinking about it--which Alexander was trying NOT to do--the whole thing gave him the creeps, but the man seemed nice enough. Yeah, but isn't it the nice ones that wind up being a snake in the grass? What if Aaron was going to do more than use a little of Alexander's blood? What if he was summoning something? Holy shit, he hoped not.

Aaron took a single step into the outer circle and motioned for Alexander to stand next to him. He murmured an explanation that it was more for their safety than anything.

Aaron passed him a handkerchief stop the bleeding when the time came, "And Alexander? Do NOT step out of this circle until I'm done. It will be dangerous for either of us if you do. And watch your step, don't mess up that line there by your left foot. Okay, thank you."

With that, Aaron started. Alexander didn't know what language it was; it sure as hell wasn't Latin, or anything even remotely familiar to him. He was fluent in three and could probably survive in an emergency with two others. But this one was just...Alexander didn't know how to explain it.

It went on like this for a time before Aaron lightly nudged Alexander with his elbow, signaling him to go ahead. Aaron didn't stop speaking, eyes on Alexander as the young man leaned over slightly and, after a moment's hesitation, cut his palm. He hissed in discomfort but didn't make any other noise as he made a fist and released a few times until he had spilled some onto the spot Aaron had indicated. When he thought he had dribbled enough on there, Alexander withdrew his hand and pressed the cloth to the wound. Straightening his spine, he looked back to Aaron, whose expression was still calm, but it was his eyes that made him freeze; Alexander couldn't look away from them. They were intense, practically hungry, and it sent a shiver down his spine; he didn't know if it was a good feeling or not.

But as Aaron had said, he was done shortly after and snapped the book shut. The sound was loud in the eerily silent cemetery, almost like when a small rock skidders across a cave floor. They didn't break eye contact, and in fact, Aaron seemed to move a hair closer to Alexander, but maybe it was his imagination.

"Can I uh, get a few bandages and something to clean this? It'll sting like hell, but..." He knew what an infection could do to a person, had seen it himself after the hurricane. The wounded didn't get treatment soon enough, and the disease was horrifying, and a slow death if they didn't get help in time. Alexander refused to be one of them.

That seemed to break Aaron out of his trance, and he blinked a few times to do away with the rest of it. After a ritual, it always felt like he was getting a breath of fresh air. He would compare it to living in the city but taking a trip to a mostly deserted beach, a clean one. It was energizing.

He tore his gaze away from Alexander to force himself into motion. Bleeding. Right. The kid was bleeding out (not really) and all Aaron could do was stare at him like Alexander was his next meal. Which he had been, to a point.

Aaron motioned for Alexander to sit on the blanket again while he grabbed the supplies to patch him up. He knelt at Alexander's side, gently taking his hand going about cleaning it. "Take care of this well enough, and it shouldn't scar." As expected, Alexander yelped when the alcohol touched the wound, and he reactively tried to jerk out of Aaron's grip. Aaron's hand tightened around his wrist, holding him in place, and he shot him a look that said "keep still, you moron."

When they got the bleeding stopped and his hand bandaged, Alexander was lightly nudged over by Aaron, who told him to lay down a moment while Aaron cleaned up the circle.

"If you need to, sit up and nibble on your snacks, drink water, it'll help," he added a few moments later. When he didn't hear a response, he looked over his shoulder to find Alexander watching him. For the first time in a long while, Aaron was the one who wanted to squirm. "Everything OK?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, just uh, you're beautiful. Also, the view of your ass when you bend over is superb. I give it a twelve out of ten."

That surprised a laugh out of Aaron and had Alexander smiling triumphantly.

"Down boy, take me on a date first" Aaron teased, shaking his head. He went back to packing up almost everything. Aaron would use his magic later to take care of the candles.

"I mean, I just bled like a stuck pig for you, I think we're there."

"You had the option to say no," he chided.

"So did you."

Now that stopped Aaron in his tracks. He could have said no? To what? When did he have a question that could have been answered with a no? And then it hit him. The date thing. Aaron was still crouched on his knees, packing things into his bag, but he turned a little to better see Alexander.

"Yes, I could have, should have, and need to." No attachments. This one would die eventually anyway, and he wasn't going to keep the kid with him forever, and maybe, just maybe, he didn't want to hurt him. Maybe. Bah, he was old and getting soft and lonely. Centuries is a long time to wander without someone.

"So that's a no?"

Aaron was yanked from his thoughts when Alexander spoke again.

Dammit, he was giving Aaron the puppy eyes. What grown man still has that weapon? If nothing else, he could have a friend for a short while, and then stage a disappearance later on when Aaron could no longer hide the fact that he wasn't aging.

He really shouldn't.

"It's...a tentative yes." OK, it'll be worth it for that expression right there. Alexander's face lights up, the same expression a child wears on Christmas morning.

"Tomorrow night then? I'm off this week for fall break, thank heavens." Alexander pushed himself up, kicking his shoes off before he sat on his feet. Another childish trait. Did no one teach the guy how to carry himself like a grown man?

There probably was, and the young man was just a little shit who didn't follow any social rules.

"You do know that I live hours away, right?" Aaron reminded him, "I can't exactly drive home tonight and come back for tomorrow evening."

Alexander clapped his hands, "You can spend the night! There. Problem solved."

"And if I have work and school this week?" And there was the kicked puppy look. How many more of those did he have in his arsenal? Aaron ran a hand over his face, "I don't...actually have work or school this week, or, well, semester." How many more lies could he spin before Alexander saw through it?

"So is that a yes?"

"It's a yes." Aaron was going to regret this. Alexander would regret it for a moment before he wiped the guy's memory when he left and didn't remember Aaron. Or take a risk.

Take a risk. He never takes chances.

He was tired of being alone.

Aaron would give it a shot, and for once in his life, he'd chase after what he wanted. For once.

Standing and holding Alexander's gaze, Aaron held a hand out to his side and made a quick motion, snuffing out half of the candles and hardening the wax before they flew to his bag and nestled inside it.


	17. Survival Horror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Children go missing and Alex finds John in the center of it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got really weird really fast.  
> Like, it's alien-ish/fantasy-ish/mythological-ish kind of weird.  
> The beginning, like the previous chapter, is inspired by an old RP starter of mind, and it just sort of ran away from me and became this monstrosity.  
> I have no idea and I was/still am half asleep writing this thing so lemme know if it's too weird and I need to redo the whole thing...and lemme know if you see errors.  
> Warnings for this chapter are: mild gore and character death

The detectives had split up ages ago, searching the woods for hours to find the place where the children were being held…and hopefully, kept alive.

Reports of children going missing in the night had people going into a panic, and no one had any idea of why they left. They seemed to go without a fuss, so someone had a way of luring them out of their homes and into the forest. George had jumped onto the case, knowing that if they were his kids, he'd have been hot on their tail to get them back; he wanted to do the same for these parents.

One person said that they thought they heard music in the night, singing, but Alex couldn’t be sure, and besides, it sounded ridiculous.

Only when he was on the verge of pulling his phone out to call George to meet up with him did he hear the singing. It took him a minute to figure out which direction it was coming from, but once he was sure, Alex shot George a quick text and running like Hell was on his heels towards the source. As he got closer, the voice began to sound more familiar to him, until he nearly stumbled from stopping so quickly.

He knew that voice, and he hoped he was wrong as the detective pushed on again more slowly, feelings of dread threatening to cause him to back down, forget following the sound, so Alex wouldn't have to see that he was right. Alex’s spirit fell when he made it into a clearing that held the owner of the familiar face, holding hands with the missing children in a circle. The children began to sing along with the figure the moment Alex's foot crossed the line between the trees and the clearing. None of them were looking at him, and Alex didn't know how they knew that he was there, but the sound of their singing was haunting and oddly pleasant.

Pleasant? No. He shouldn’t think about that. Whatever they were singing, it seemed to put the children into a trance.

Alex watched as one more entered the clearing, the newest addition to the list of missing children. The girl moved smoothly, bare feet seeming not to pick up on any of the rocks she might be stepping on. Her gaze was unfocused as she slowly joined the figure in the center of the circle.

John. Why would he be here? Why was he with the children?

And how in the hell did he have kids flocking to him every night? What about the singing was luring them?

He pulled out his phone and snuck a quick video of what he had found, and then quickly sent it to Washington.

His next step forward had all of the children letting go of each others' hands to turn and face Alex. His friend was in the center of it all, smiling serenely at Alex as he approached the group of children.

"John?" he called quietly, still in disbelief that his best friend was at the center of it all, literally and figuratively. The man all but glided towards Alex, the children parting from him without stopping their song.

"Alex, my good friend." John's voice was soft, honey-sweet, as he addressed Alex. They were both young--Alex was fresh out of the academy, and John was still in med school--and Alex knew this, but here? In this situation? John looked more like an angel than he ever had; his soft, boyish features were warmed by a strange glow that seemed to radiate from within.

Alex could see, from an adult's standpoint, as to why John would be so alluring to the unwary. For the children, it was something about his singing, but for adults? Maybe this was how he baited them. Alex was indeed frozen to the spot as his eyes followed John who was circling him slowly, one finger lazily dragging over his shoulders and around to trace his collarbones. He couldn't say for sure that it was the unearthly beauty John sported that kept him glued to the spot, or if it was simply the situation that had his mind short out for a moment.

When he finally regained his senses, he batted John's hand away.

John's expression darkened, almost deadly, but it was gone as quickly as it came. "Oh, come on Alex, dear, I don't bite...unless you want me too."

  1. Alex would be honest here and say that yes, he'd daydreamed about John a little; he was sure everyone had at one point or another, given how beautiful he was. Who wouldn't? Those freckles and bright eyes, the brilliant laugh that warmed the listener's heart? It was hard not to be taken in with John.



But this brought that to a whole new level, and Alex didn't like it.

He took a step back, trying to put space between them before spouting out his first question. "John, why do you have the missing children with you?"

"Oh, that's easy." John's light laugh all but swirled around Alex, nearly intoxicating. "I'm taking them home with me. We've run out of children to feed on, and I'm one of the hunters."

"What in the hell is that supposed to mean?" he snapped. John's expression hardened for a split second as he ordered Alex to watch his language around the children; Alex shut up immediately, his whole body tensing to ready itself to run away from the danger.

His feet didn't cooperate with the rest of him, and he didn't move.

"It means, I popped into this realm for a bit to hunt down the innocent children, so my people don't starve to death." John's expression had softened again, but his tone was firm, all but daring Alex to do something about it.

After witnessing the weirdness of this clearing, Alex was not going to question the whole "realm" thing.

His body relaxed, no, sagged, and his face fell. "John..." There was no way this was happening. It couldn't be happening. John wouldn't do this. John loved children and was fiercely protective of them. Well, at least with the children at the orphanage. Alex hadn't seen him interact with kids outside of that.

John smiled sweetly and closed the distance between them, hand raising to cup the shorter man's face. "Oh, Alex...I'm not really John. I dress as the personification of who you feel the safest around." He motioned to the children behind him. "They see me as something different. I'm their parent, their pet dog, a friend from school...you see me as your John. Tell me, do you like him? Why do you feel so safe around him?"

Alex didn't stop himself from answering and couldn't pull away, terrified. "We...grew up together, fought together, and he kept me safe when no one else would...there are few I'd trust with my life."

"Oh? A few? And who would they be? Perhaps this one?" The man before Alexander shivered, his appearance looking something like the surface of a pool. Distorted, shapeless. And then he was seeing his other friend, the exchange student who was Alex's roommate. Lafayette shouldn't be here; he was supposed to be in France, visiting his girlfriend. This was wrong. This was so, so, so wrong.

"You call him by something other than his first name, Lafayette? Why...? Ah, I see, it's a mouthful and easier to say." He even had Lafayette's voice; the thick accent reminded Alex of home, it was warm and kind. "You used to like this one when you first met him; you thought he was cute. Still do! How sweet, oh, but John is still the favorite I see. Let's try another."

Another shudder and now Hercules was the one holding him so gently. Alex tried to pull away from him this time; he didn't want to see this. He couldn't look at his friends as their images were twisted by something foul. Hercules tugged him back, his eyes flashing in warning a moment before he was warm and affectionate, just as the real one was.

"Now, now, let's not go running off. We're having fun, right? Who's next?" He shifted into another person Alex trusted: his deceased mother. Alex's legs gave out this time, and his mother caught him quickly, holding him as if he were as light as a feather.

Alex hadn't seen his mom in so long...he had begun to forget what she looked like, had forgotten her voice. This one wasn't uncomfortable; it was painful, it was relief, it was joy, it was fear.

"Oh, my poor baby, my poor son...I'm so sorry for leaving you. I'm here now; I promise I won't go." Hearing his mother's voice again reminded him of the longing he'd suffered since she died.

There it was. Alex figured out what it was that could lure someone in with just a voice.

"N-no...no, lemme go!" Alex found his strength again and pushed at the being that was cradling him like his mother used to. It had no right. None.

His mother let him go, looking as if she might cry, and it was killing Alex to see this, to see his mother looking so distraught, and it was all he could do to shoot one last look at the children before bolting. George. He had to find George. Alex didn't want to shoot at the thing with the kids behind it, and he didn't know if that would kill it or enrage the thing.

His mother's wailing followed him, dogged his steps as he ran further into the woods. Alex ignored it in favor of yanking out his phone and trying to call his partner.

"Come on Wash, answer your damn phone..." As far as he could tell, the thing didn't follow him, which was a relief. That was the one good thing he'd seen tonight.

Alex ran into something in the dark. There was a grunt of pain and the thud of another body hitting the ground that matched his.

"Alex?" George.

Relief flooded Alex and he bolted upright. "Wash! I found the kids and...holy shit you will not believe it. Did you see the video I sent you?"

The older man scowled when Alex swore and rubbed at his chest, which Alex had run into face first, and sighed, "Yes, I did. What was that?"

"Sir, I don't think you would believe me if I told you." Quickly, Alex regurgitated everything that happened in the clearing, finishing with, "I managed to get away and came running to find you. Why didn't you answer my call or text?"

"My phone had died. Alex, I am so sorry." George looked stricken for a moment as he tried to come to terms with the fact that he wasn't there for his partner. "Do you remember where it was?"

Alex nodded and pushed himself to his feet, and then held out a hand to help George up. "Yeah, this way."

They didn't talk the whole way there aside from "we can't use our guns," which Alex already knew but he let George remind him anyway.

 

When they got to the clearing, the children were still there, lying on the ground asleep, but the thing Alex had spoken with was gone. That couldn't be right.

"No...where is it? It was just here! Wash, you saw the video! He...it...whatever it was, it was here when I ran off and..." Alex swore under his breath as he turned in every direction to see if he could see the thing. Maybe it was disguised as one of the children? No, that wouldn't be either. "Where the hell is it?"

"Alex," George snapped. "Watch your language; there are kids around."

Alex stopped, a chill ran down his back as the small hairs over his body raised. Shit.

"Ah, I guess that gave it away, hm?"

Alex turned slowly to face his not-partner, shoulders sagging in defeat. "Where's George...?"

The creature didn't answer for a moment, and it seemed to think it over, as if it could figure it out, before answering, "He slipped down an embankment and sprained his ankle; he's getting too old for this in my opinion."

"I didn't ask for your opinion," he snapped.

The creature wearing George's face scowled at him and then, with a huff, shuddered again until it was back to wearing John's face. John stalked forward, smiling sweetly. When he reached Alex, he went back to cradling Alex's face, "I haven't touched him, and none of my kind would want to. He's too old for us to eat and honestly, it wouldn't be fun to kill him for sport when he can't run away. You on the other hand? You were fun to chase, and easy to catch."

John gently brushed his thumbs over Alex's cheeks, "You're just this side of too old for us to bother eating...but I like you; you're fun, unlike most of your kind. Instead of eating you and licking your bones clean, I might keep you as a pet. Torturing you with your own memories will be a delight. What a horrible life you've lived so far...so much death and tragedy. It's a wonder you've stayed sane this long; I wonder how long you would last under my care?"

His words were smooth, soft and caring, a coo that sounded just like his John when Alex was sick. It was the only time John would spoil Alex rotten, the only time he could get away with it. Alex never got a minor cold. When he caught something, he was in bed at least a week or more. It would be easy to lose himself in it, to enjoy the short moment of John fawning over him like this and treating him so gently. It may even be worth the torture he'd face for the rest of his life...

A crack sounded, and the creature's form shivered into what a person looked like in those one color body suits. There wasn't a face, no clothes or features, just the shape of a person without the person. What looked to be like blood was oozing out of the side of its head; that's when Alex noticed that he was covered in a spray of it.

Shaken, Alex stumbled back a few steps and dropped to his ass, staring at the fantastical corpse at his feet.

A hand gently rested on his shoulder, and Alex jumped with a yelp, jerking away from it, only to find that it was his partner. The man had tucked his gun away. Despite looking so put together, Alex could see a hint of fear in his eyes, the worry for his younger friend.

"Are you alright, Alex?" he asked softly, keeping his distance now that he knew Alex was too scared at the moment to handle contact.

Numbly, Alex shook his head and looked back to the body, and then up to the kids. They were beginning to stir.

"I will be...for now, they're waking up, and we need to cover this thing so that they don't see it. Call for several EMTs to check them out." He slowly pushed himself back to his feet but he wobbled, and George had to steady him until Alex got his balance back.

"We should probably call someone about that thing too, huh."

Alex could only nod at that, but then he asked, "What did you see when you saw it? It said that...it takes the shape of someone or something you trust."

After a moment's hesitation, George gestured to Alex with a nod of his head, "I saw you."

Alex nodded in understanding and moved on to his next question, "Do you mind if I call John? I want to make sure he's OK."

"You saw Laurens?"

"I saw many people, you included, but it favored John."

"I'll put in the call; you check in on your friend." George knew he needed the reassurance, to hear his friend's voice and know that he was OK. He had that closure, and now it was Alex's turn.


	18. Witches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza centric.  
> Brotp/otp is ElizaxMaria (I blame a crap ton of fics for this) so let your heart guide you as to whether this is a ship or not.  
> Hogwarts!au

Her family name was the source of her stress.

As the daughter of someone in the Ministry of Magic, there was a heavy pressure to succeed and make her daddy proud of her.

That desire to do well did nothing to quell the fear that had her stomach churning when her name was called. Schuyler, Elizabeth. The eyes of the students in the Great Hall followed her path to the front where a stool sat, waiting beside a professor with a hat that looked like something had chewed on it.

Taking slow breaths to keep herself calm, she turned to face the hall and took a seat daintily, forcing herself to use the grace she’d been taught to use her whole childhood. She saw her sister at the Ravenclaw table, and quietly hoped that she would be in the same house as her sister.

“ _You would rather be there? You cannot cling to her skirts forever child._ ”

Hearing the hat whispering to her caused her to flinch, startled at a hat that can speak. After a moment, she whispered back, “ _But she’s always—”_

 _“Been there?”_ it interrupted. “ _She’ll still be there for you, but you don’t need to be in the same house as her._ ”

Eliza nodded slightly and asked, “ _Then what do you recommend?”_

“ _Gryffindor. You’re braver than you think._ ”

 _"Then bring it on._ ”

The sorting hat switched to a shout, calling out her new house. The Gryffindors cheered uproariously, a standing ovation. Professor Franklin smiled down at her and lifted the hat, murmuring a congratulations and that her father would be so proud.

That encouragement warmed her, gave her the confidence she needed to accept the change in her life. She and her sister would each be their own person, rather than following one another around. It was terrifying, but Eliza felt a small thrill of excitement when a girl she met on the train patted the bench next to her.

With a grin, the new Gryffindor dropped herself into the seat, only for the girl, Maria, her mind supplied, hugged her tightly.

“We’re going to be roommates!” she exclaimed in a whisper.

Eliza beamed. Maria’s excitement was infectious.

With a glance to the Ravenclaw table, Eliza met her sister’s gaze. Angelica grinned at her, shooting her a thumbs up. When the sorting was over, Angelica planned to go congratulate her sister in person.

Maria said it would be a fantastic year, and Eliza had to agree with her.


	19. Ghost Hunters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be about ghost hunters but it wound up being about an annoying ghost and not much else.  
> Prepare for a tiny bit of angst and fluff.  
> Aaron and Alex feels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, not beta'd and therefore there will probably be a crap ton of mistakes. Lemme know if I missed something.

How Aaron wound up in situations like this one, he would never know. Did he kill someone in a previous life? Was this is punishment?

Because he has a roommate that he never expected to get when he signed the lease for this house.

He wasn't scary, not really, but he WAS annoying.

Alexander Hamilton.

A soldier from the American Revolution who died after a middle-of-the-night, secret mission to steal cannons from the British. A Redcoat had caught sight of them as they were leaving and decided to follow them first before he sounded an alarm. At least this way, he could find out where the rebel camp was. They'd been looking for their home base for weeks and coming back empty handed. It was as the men approached the camp that the Redcoat took a chance and shot the man who seemed to be leading them. It had hit his shoulder and knicked the brachial artery.

Alexander died of blood loss shortly after the attack.

Or at least, that was one of the stories Alexander had told him. There were several versions of how he died, and Aaron couldn't get a straight answer out of him.

Oh, did I fail to mention that he was dead?

That's right. Aaron had a ghost for a roommate.

 

And now he was here, in Aaron's house and talking his ears off. Did he ever shut up? How was he supposed to get any sleep or work done when the ghost was non-stop?

Aaron also caught Alexander looking at him with what Aaron could only describe as sorrow and regret. Maybe he regrets keeping me up at night, Aaron thought, bitterly wishing something would shut him up.

He went online and looked up different ways to get rid of ghosts, and nothing worked when he tried it. In fact, Alexander only laughed at him after every attempt failed.

 

Aaron snapped at him once, at the end of his rope after a day where he lost a robbery case that afternoon.

'Would you shut up! Whatever the hell is keeping you here, tell me where it is so I'll be rid of you!' he had shouted.

Alexander looked startled at the outburst and then rejected like some puppy in the rain. Aaron would deny that it tugged at his heartstrings. He couldn't and wouldn't say that he regretted taking his anger and frustration out on Alexander. It would be the white flag of defeat that would allow Alexander to continue harassing Aaron for the rest of his time here.

So he had watch Alexander fade out of sight, still holding his scowl.

 

He didn’t see Alexander again for several days, and Aaron abhorred his feelings on the matter. He missed the idiot. He missed that brilliant, perfect, and annoying idiot.

Aaron couldn't admit it.

It was during the next weekend, after five days of not seeing Alexander, that Aaron stayed home that night and dropped to the couch to watch Netflix. He had no one to impress and nothing else to do except wallow in his misery from being alone again. He didn't realize how dependent he became on the noise that Alexander had brought into his life. Now that he was gone, Aaron felt crushed by the sudden and strange silence.

It was after his third episode of some show that he wasn't even watching that Alexander showed up again, standing in front of Aaron and looking almost worried for him. And after a moment of squinting his eyes at Alexander, Aaron came to the conclusion that yes, Alexander was concerned for him.

"Can I help you?" he mumbled.

Alexander turned sheepish, fiddling with something that Aaron couldn't see in his hands. The ghost looked down at his feet, searching for his words, which, if Aaron were on his feet, he would have fallen over in shock that Alexander of all people couldn't figure out what to say.

"Well?" Aaron snapped.

"I..." Alexander stopped, frowned to himself, and then met Aaron's gaze. He stepped closer and held out a small picture frame that housed a painting of someone.

"What's this?" Aaron sat up and took the small object, only to drop it like it had burned him when he saw what was on it. That looked like him. That looked like him but older and holy shit he needed to be drunk for this.

"Where...where the hell did you get this? What is it?"

He watched as Alexander knelt calmly and picked up the small painting, handling it like it was something precious to him.

"It's a man with your namesake, obviously." He had regained some of his confidence and sarcasm, which was a good sign, Aaron thought absently. But how in the hell was that supposed to be obvious?

Alexander smiled softly at the painting, fingers brushing over the surface. "He was my best friend...and also my worst enemy in the last years of my life...we bickered over something stupid and wound up dueling one another."

Here he paused, biting his lips as he seemed to hold back his tears. "I-I couldn't do it. I loved him like a brother and I couldn't just...I couldn't shoot him. And-and I thought that he would miss me. He was a shit shot. So I shot into the air above me to end the duel without anyone getting hurt, but he thought I was aiming and fired."

Aaron stared at the young man, horrified. What petty argument could drive them to the point of trying to kill each other?

"What did you two fight over?"

Alexander snorted, "I wouldn't endorse him for president because I supported my worst enemy, Jefferson. He felt betrayed, rightly so, but I stood by my decision. He wasn't fit to be president, not for the reason he wanted it." Aaron gave him an expectant look, wanting the ghost to elaborate. Alexander sighed dramatically and continued, "He wanted the position for the power, not because he thought he would be the best choice for the people. I couldn't get behind that when we had worked so hard to free ourselves from a king that thought the same thing."

Aaron nervously held out his hand, silently asking Alexander if he could see it again. When Alexander passed it back, Aaron took a closer look at the man who looked so much like him; the man that gave Aaron the ghost that now lived in his house. He avoided touching the painting so that the oils on his fingers didn't ruin the paint, but he still ran his fingers along the frame, gentle and caring. As far as Aaron knew, he didn't have any family ties to anyone in history. Coincidence maybe? It could happen, that he had a doppelganger somewhere out there. Well, here he was.

"This is what keeps you here, isn't it? It's what you're attached to." He didn't look up, but he could see in his peripheral that Alexander nodded.

"And when you showed up, looking like my friend, comrade, enemy, and partner in our cases...I definitely couldn't leave when you walked through that door. I couldn't move, speak, show myself, nothing...My Aaron Burr walked back into my life, or, well, afterlife. It was terrifying."

Aaron said nothing, forcing his eyes to remain fixed to the painting. What was he supposed to say to that? That he was sorry for upsetting Alexander? He hadn't done anything except exist.

"You act just like him, and I keep forgetting that you are separate people." Alexander fell silent again after that, but he closed the distance between them to sit on the couch beside Aaron.

Aaron broke the silence. "But why did you stay here instead of moving on?"

"My death was sudden and violent, and I was in the middle of so many projects, and it didn't hit me at the time that I was dead and couldn't finish them anyway. So, now I'm stuck here for eternity, or until I finish what I started." He laughed bitterly, picking at his fingers. "It's weird, though. I was creeping up on fifty when I was shot and wound up at about twenty-three or so when I popped back into this world. I'm happy not to look like an old man for eternity, don't get me wrong, but still...that was a shock too. Heh, my wife would have liked the "eye candy," as you kids say these days."

Aaron would have poked fun at Alexander's quasi-joke at any other time, but instead, he rested the painting in his lap and finally took a good look at Alexander; the ghost still seemed close to tears. Awkwardly, Aaron reached over and rested a hand on his...what was he supposed to call him? His roommate? That Annoying Guy He Can't Hate? Friend?

"What...what do you need to finish? I can try and help," Aaron offered, surprising himself with the impulsive offer. He just didn't do that; he wasn't an impulsive man. "I have connections and might be able to obtain documents or something, whatever you need."

Alexander's head shot up, unconsciously squeezing Aaron's hand. "You would do that?"

Aaron fought back a smirk when he teased, "Well, you are annoying and if it gets rid of you..."

The ghost snorted and shook his head, "I knew it; you hate me. I've talked until your ears bled."

They shared a grin, and then Alexander's smile fell. "I don't know if I care about that work anymore. Finishing it wouldn't change things with your time's problems; they were for my time."

"So then if you've given that up, why are you still here?"

Alexader shrugged, "I don't know; I couldn't tell you."

"What will you do if I move out?" Aaron asked quietly, scared of Alexander's answer.

"I don't know, and I don't want to think about it." Alexander was back to picking at his hands. "Are you really going to leave?"

Aaron had to strain to hear what he'd said; Alexander's voice was so small and quiet, scared. It shouldn't be breaking his heart, but it was. Reaching out, he plucked the painting from Alexander's lap and waved it, "I'm taking you with me. You're a pain in the ass, annoying, loud, disruptive when I need to work, and you keep me up at night, but I still like having you around, Lord help me."

If it were possible for someone's smile to be brighter than the sun, Aaron would bet his money that the smile would belong to Alexander.

Oh, and getting hugs from dead people is weird. Let's just put that out there right now. It was cool against your skin and almost felt fuzzy. It would be like someone taking a Swiffer Duster and brushing it over you; it was light and barely there.

Aaron attempted to hug him back after Alexander all but pounced him. "I guess you're stuck with me," he mumbled into Alexander's hair.

The ghost snorted and tightened his hold on Aaron, not planning on letting him go anytime soon. "Ugh, what a rough life." Aaron heard him hum happily, amused at the little jab. He'd get him back later for that one. "Aaron? Are you him?"

Aaron pulled away and clasped Alexander's shoulders, "If I was ever him, I'm me now." There was a difference. And when Alexander nodded in understanding, Aaron yanked him back into another embrace. "Now shut up you noisy idiot and hug me."


	20. Horror Movie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smol Alex and Thomas.  
> Thomas is a little shit and takes things a little too far.  
> He makes up for it.  
> Everyone is happy and only one person goes unsatisfied in the end...but only for a little while. (Hint: Alex is a little shit too and Thomas ain't puttin' up with that nastiness)

Friday Night Movie Night, the one night Alex and Thomas usually called a truce for Lafayette's sake. The guy deserved better than his two closest friends bickering the whole night, ruining the fun for everyone that crammed onto the numerous couches and chairs that Lafayette had in his apartment. Alex asked him about it once; why did he need so many? Lafayette had pointed his finger at Alex and poked the center of his chest. "So that my favorite idiots have a place to stay and everyone is included," he had answered.  
So, things were supposed to go as usual. He and Thomas would bicker a tiny bit until they saw Lafayette frowning at them, which broke their hearts and they'd stop immediately to get rid of Lafayette's trademark Kicked Puppy expression. They always wound up on the same couch—John had pointed out that it was a love seat and ooh what are you two up to?—and surprisingly, they didn't fight over who had more space. In fact, rather than the expected "you stay on your cushion, and I'll stay on mine," Alex let Thomas have more room to stretch out his legs. He'd lightly shoved them off the first time Thomas tried to drape them over his lap, but Alex didn't deny the guy again after that one time and Thomas got away with it every Friday.  
In return, Thomas would make sure Alex got most of the blanket. The boy had to be a vampire or something. He was always cold to the touch and in the winter, he walked around looking like a tiny but fat marshmallow with all of the puffy layers he wore to stay warm. Alex reminded Thomas of the little brother in The Christmas Story, who waddled around and couldn’t move because of all of the layers. It was a little pathetic. So when they were in Lafayette's apartment with the sub-arctic temperatures that the Frenchman seemed to love, Alex was always shivering, though he never complained and tried to hide it from Lafayette. Thomas said he only let Alex have the blanket because he was annoyed at Alex's teeth chattering and that he couldn't hear the movie over the clacking. A load of horse shit and everyone knew it, but no one called him out on it lest it disturbs their precious peace. Thomas cared, and it went beyond the clicking of Alex’s teeth.  
And if one of them fell asleep on the other (Alex worked himself beyond the limits of what was healthy and would usually just drop where he was and fall asleep, so Thomas often took the weight of Alex falling asleep and drooling on his shoulder), everyone pretended that it didn't happen.  
The movies they watched varied depending on whose night it was to pick the films. Rarely did they watch horror, much to Alex's silent relief. He hated them. For the most part, he was able to contain his reactions to the terrible things that happened on the screen. A startle here or there was nothing; everyone was entitled to those. From time to time, he'd clench his eyes shut to block out the images on the screen and feign the need to rub his eyes out of "exhaustion" to give himself an excuse for not looking.  
The problem was this: Thomas had found out that Alex was usually spooked by horror movies, although he didn't let on to Alex that he knew, and decided to use it to his advantage.  
So when it was his night to pick the movies, he chose a horror film; he regretted it a little when he noticed the color drain from Alex's face. Sure, Thomas wanted Alex a little scared so that he could "save the day," as it were, and come up with some excuse to pull Alex over to him for support, but he didn't want the guy to forgo sleep that night when Alex rarely slept anyway.  
Thomas faked his inability to get comfortable on the couch, squirming around, which had the added side effect of distracting Alex from the movie. At one point within those fifteen minutes of wriggling around, they made eye contact, which caused Thomas to stop a moment. The look on Alex's face made him feel like a piece of shit because there had to have been a better way to get Alex to cuddle him than scaring the hell out of him. Thomas pulled the leg closest to Alex's stomach away from Alex's lap and carefully slid it behind Alex. They never broke their gaze, couldn't look away as they watch each other's emotions play out on their faces.  
After a few awkward moments, when Thomas thought that Alex wouldn't take the bait, he was pleasantly surprised when Alex scooted closer and turned his back to him, leaning back until he was resting against Thomas' chest. If it wouldn't make him look like an idiot or disturb everyone, Thomas would be doing his victory dance right about now. Carefully, as if Alex might bolt if Thomas moved too suddenly, he drew the blanket up and slipped his arms under to wrap around Alex's middle.  
It took time, but he felt Alex slowly relaxing. He was still a little spooked—Thomas swore he'd explain and apologize later—but he was doing better than before.  
Thomas certainly didn't complain, although he blushed when he caught everyone looking at them and smirking like they knew it would happen. He swore he saw John and Aaron passing money to Hercules. Bets. Their friends had been making bets. Was it on why Thomas picked this movie? Or maybe how Alex was all but laying on top of Thomas and not complaining or squirming from fear?  
He wasn't sure that he wanted to know right now, especially when Alex was pressing closer to him, curling up tighter as if he wanted Thomas to hold all of him. Thomas knew that if this continued, Alex was going to act like a princess and have Thomas carry him everywhere if they stayed at one of their apartments. He wouldn't fight Alex on it either.  
Dammit, nothing had happened, and he was already whipped; James' expression said that he knew it too, the smug bastard.  
But when he noticed Alex's breathing had slowed, that he'd fallen asleep on him, Thomas couldn't suppress his fond smile, completely forgetting the crap he would be hearing from everyone later on. It didn't matter so long as he could keep this.  
A new tradition was added to Friday Night Movie Night; Alex would curl up in Thomas’ lap or sit between his legs like he had the first time.  
Thomas only complained a little when Alex drooled on him, although he was only teasing and Alex would purposefully lick him in retaliation. Now that right there. That would gross him out, and Alex would nearly be shoved to the floor. ‘Nasty ass, street rat,’ he had grumbled. Alex only smirked, thinking Thomas wasn’t actually going to do anything to stop him.  
He was wrong of course because Thomas would take Alex home with him and Alex would see the error of his ways when Thomas teased the hell out of him for hours on end.  
All in all, it was worth the screw up of scaring the shit out of Alex.


	21. Werewolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this is THAT au.  
> The AU where "why do you keep waking up naked on my lawn?"  
> Lams  
> Weird and kinda stupid

This was the, what, fifth time that this had happened?  
Once again, Alex walked outside to grab his paper to find some guy passed out on his lawn, buck naked. It was the same guy, every month.  
Don't get him wrong; the man was gorgeous, from what he could tell at a distance, but the neighbors were beginning to talk. Why did Mr. Hamilton have a naked man on his front lawn? Is this some kind of sick joke? Was this some kind of kinky game of his?  
To answer those questions:  
Alex didn't know why.  
Not to his knowledge.  
If it was a game, Alex didn't get the memo.  
But as he trudged through the damp grass to the sleeping man, Alex removed his housecoat and draped it over him. "Oi, wake up goober. You're scaring the neighbors."  
The man stirred and blinked up at him and holy shit, Alex hadn't been this close to him, and those eyes were gorgeous. The freckles completed the look, and Alex thought it wasn't fair. Especially when those doe eyes were looking up at him with the sweetest, confused look that Alex had ever seen. The young man pushed himself up into a seated position and blinked against the morning light, trying to figure out where the hell he was. When he did, he huffed, let out an annoyed groan, and dropped back down onto his back.  
"Again? Dammit!"  
Alex folded his arms, "Yes, I would have to agree with you."  
The mystery man looked back to Alex, eyes widening. "Holy shit you're adorable...look how tiny you are!"  
"Excuse you. You are naked on my front lawn, and this is the fifth time you've done this. What gives?" Alex dropped his fists to his hips, trying to seem threatening, although it only caused the man on his grass to laugh. "Quit laughing! I'm pissed."  
His still naked guest beamed up at Alex and Alex would NOT smile. He couldn't smile back. "The angrier you get, the cuter you get. I wish I had my camera for this."  
Affronted, Alex grabbed his bathrobe and made for his door. He smirked to himself when the other man yelped and scrambled to cover himself.  
"Holy shit, hey! Get back here with that!"  
"It's my bathrobe, and I don't want nasty-ass assholes defiling it with their disrespect." The man had apparently jumped to his feet and scrambled after Alex, letting out a pained squeak when he put his foot out to keep Alex from shutting the door in his face.  
"Ow...shit. Wait, hey, I'm sorry. Please lemme keep that 'til I get home? Please? I'll bring it right back." He raised his foot a little to rub at it, grimacing and with a huff, Alex stepped back to let the man in. The guy perked up and darted inside, forgetting to cover his front, which had Alex forcing himself to keep eye contact so that he wouldn't look down.  
"Thank you."  
Alex said nothing and turned his back on him, taking the stairs two at a time to grab something for the man to put on. When he came back, his guest was sitting against the front door, knees against his chest. That was not what he needed to see. Alex slapped a hand over his eyes and tossed the clothes to him.  
"Boxers, basketball shorts, huge t-shirt. They should fit you long enough to get you home."  
He heard the clothes rustling as the other slipped everything on.  
"Thank you."  
"You're welcome." Alex uncovered his eyes and the two of them stared at one another awkwardly. "Are you going to stop passing out on my lawn?"  
He blushed, staring down at his bare feet. "I uh, can't make any promises. Stuff like that just happens. I'm uh, I'm John by the way."  
"I'm Alex. Now why can you not restrain yourself?" Alex realized something, looking the man up and down in Alex's clothes: he was still in his pajamas. Now it was his turn to turn pink and avoid John's eye.  
"I can't say. It just does, but I'll try my best." John made for the door and opened it, grinning back at Alex. "But hey, at least I got to see how cute you are and have the chance to see you again. I'll return your clothes later."  
Before Alex could stop him, John was gone, and the house was silent. What the hell?  
And he had forgotten to get the paper.  
  
When it happened again, a month and three dates later, Alex was unprepared for how it happened. Alex found him naked, sure, but it wasn't outside.  
  
Alex was curled up on the couch, trying to rest after catching a cold that had been going around at the office. He and John had been texting, and despite his whining, John couldn't get away from work to take care of Alex that night, although he would check in on him in the morning when Alex was up. Alex unhappily accepted it and resigned himself to his canned chicken noodle soup and five blankets wrapped around him while he dozed on the couch all day.  
At about eleven, there was a scratching at his door. Alex ignored it, thinking that he was hearing things. When it persisted, Alex sighed and freed himself from his cocoon to check it out. A large dog was sitting on his doormat, wagging his tail and looking expectantly at Alex. Was that actually a dog or was that something else? It looked a little off for a dog, huge and a kind of wild, although when it sat up to beg, Alex felt himself melting for him. Slowly kneeling, Alex held out a hand. The dog sniffed it, rubbing his cold nose along Alex's palm and causing the man to jerk back with a laugh.  
"Dthorry," he said with a sniff. Grinning, he held his hand out again and gently scratched the dog's chin and then around to the back of its neck. Ou don hab a collar, do dya bud?"  
The dog lurched forward and licked at Alex's face, drawing out another laugh before the man jerked back to sneeze into his shirt.  
"Gross..."  
Standing, he stood and moved back to let the dog in if it wanted. It trotted through the door like he owned the place, immediately making for the kitchen. Alex snorted and followed after it. Must be hungry, he thought to himself.  
He didn't have dog food, but he had a hotdog left from when Hercules had come over to grill out the other night. Maybe his furry friend would eat that. The dog sat in front of the fridge and watched Alex open it to pull out the leftovers. He held it out, and the dog ate it in two bites. Did he even swallow that? Alex shook his head and pulled down a bowl that he filled with water.  
"'Ere dya go." The dog went at it, and Alex rubbed at his face tiredly. Remembering that the dog had licked him, he went back to the sink to wash his face off. After all of the hoo-ha, Alex patted the dog and started for the living room. "Blease don pee tnighd."  
With that, he bundled up and dropped back down onto the couch, ready for another nap. He heard the clicking of the dog following him a few minutes later and a whumf when it dropped down to lay next to the couch, sighing. Alex briefly thought that having a guard dog to keep him company while he slept wouldn't be so bad. It wasn't John, but it would do.  
  
When he woke the next morning, that was when he saw a naked John again. Or, well, felt John behind him, holding him tightly from outside the blanket. Confused, Alex turned his head, blinking tiredly while he puzzled over John's presence. When did he get here? How did he get in? Why didn't he wake Alex?  
That was when he discovered that John wasn't wearing a scrap of clothing. Why didn't the dog wake him barking or something?  
"John?" he croaked.  
The man startled awake and frowned at Alex. When did he come to Alex's house. A moment later, when John realized what had happened, he jerked back with a gasp and fell onto the living room floor.  
"Alex! Shit shit shit shit. I don't know how I...How did I get in?"  
Alex rolled over to peer down at his boyfriend, lying on the rug, and paused. "What happened to the dog that was lying there last night?"  
The blood drained from John's face; he didn't bother to get up, staring up at the ceiling. "It was me."  
"S-sorry, what?" Alex sat up and rubbed at his face, "What'd you do with him?"  
"N-no--Alex, I'm that...uh, dog."  
There was a beat of silence in which John avoided Alex's eye, and Alex was trying to figure out how to respond to that.  
"John, that's ridiculous. What happened to the dog?" He wasn't awake enough for this.  
"It wasn't a dog! It was a wolf." Alex tried to catch John's eye but couldn't. "I'm a werewolf?"  
"Why are you phrasing that as a question?" Alex got a shrug in reply. "John, that's ridiculous and--"  
"Alex, you fed me the hotdog from when you and Hercules had a cookout and gave me water." It was said in a rush, fueled by John's panic from having this conversation so early in their relationship.  
"So...you're telling me that you're a...one of those?"  
John sat up and finally met Alex's confused gaze, "Yes."  
Another pause and then Alex flopped onto his back, yanking the blankets up. "I'm not awake enough to process that. Get back to me in about a half hour."  
When he heard John get up and start walking away, Alex poked his head out from under the covers. "Where are you going? You don't get to leave yet because you will be explaining that later on. For now, get back over here."  
John didn't take the time to think about it, rushing back to the couch and crawling under with Alex. The pair stared at one another for a time, trying to decipher each other's expressions. Eventually, Alex scooted closer to John and hid his face in John's neck. It didn't take long for John to hear Alex's breath slow, tiny snuffles breaking up the silence here and there.  
Smiling, he hugged Alex tightly and drifted off himself. Maybe it would turn out alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe the hit count.  
> Why y'all here?  
> Not that I'm complaining.  
> Love hearing your thoughts


	22. Bugs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragon Age Inquisition au that no one asked for.  
> Remember the bit about Cole putting peeled plums on a window to attract flies for the spiders? Yeah, this is about that, but it pisses off Mage!Peggy.

Peggy was getting damn tired of these peeled plums showing up on the windowsills. The flies were driving her up a wall, and she couldn't seem to get rid of the fruit fast enough to prevent their appearance.  
On the upside, the healers were coming in and out of her lab to take care of the increased spider population. Every day, in and out, webs were collected. She couldn't complain too much; it was helpful for the soldiers that were wounded in battle. They were fighting against the monsters pouring from the Breach.  
That didn't mean she had to like it.  
It was when she saw a kid with a huge and grubby hat that she remembered who had been doing it. He was the one bringing bugs into her lab during the day.  
She stomped over to the boy, planning on giving him a piece of her mind. He turned, sensing that she was coming and looked a bit scared. Yeah, he'd better be scared, she thought.  
"Why do you keep putting that nasty fruit in my windows?" she snapped, grabbing his collar. "Those flies are getting into my potions."  
He held up his hands, trying to appease her. "Wounds need webs; spiders make webs; spiders eat flies, and the plums taste good to them."  
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"  
The boy was silence a moment before sighing and dropping his hands. "She doesn't understand...not good. Um, how to...how do I..." Another pause before he looked back up at Peggy, "I'm sorry. I was trying to help, and your window was good. I will find another."  
With that, he disappeared from her grasp, which freaked her out a little. Hopefully, though, the kid learned his lesson and would stop. She didn't want the flies in her lab. Her work was too important for that.


	23. Circus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laf is gonna kill someone after this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the prompt was circus but I was thinking about those creepy clowns that have been everywhere and went with that.  
> idk if I like this one
> 
> edit: I forgot to italicise Laf's dialogue. Whoops

Lafayette would never admit to screaming like a girl.  
But could you blame him?  
You try being chased by an ax-wielding clown on a horse and let's see if you keep your cool. Like hell was he going to die like this and like hell was he going to die before the rest of his friends. No. He would not be the first to go.  
But, surprisingly enough, he survived the ordeal.  
But only because the idiot ran into a tree branch and was knocked off his horse.  
The yelp of pain sounded familiar.  
Lafayette stopped running a moment to look back at the clown, only to find that their mask had fallen off. Oh, it was Hercules. OH, it was Hercules! ...and he was going to kill him.  
Lafayette stalked his prey, wondering what method he could use to kill him. Hercules was gasping for breath; the wind knocked out of him in his fall. When Lafayette reached him, he scooped up the ax and tossed it away so he wouldn't actually kill the guy.  
" _What the hell, Hercules?_ " Bending over, Lafayette yanked him to his feet by his coat and then halfway threw him against the nearest tree. " _You fricking asshole I oughta kill your sorry ass for pulling a stunt like that!_ "  
Hercules looked scared for a moment, wondering if Lafayette would do something to him. The fear turned to shame, and then to confusion.  
"Laf? I can't understand a word you're saying."  
Lafayette paused in his rant, frowning down at Hercules. Why was this idiot interrupting him? " _Do I need to speak up!_ " he shouted at him.  
"Huh?" His confusion was growing, and it was pissing Lafayette off. Why was he not getting it? "Laf, English, please."  
Wait, was he speaking in French? No wonder he looked so confused...  
"Oh."  
Hercules nodded slowly, "Yes. Oh."  
Lafayette finally lets go of his friend, all of his anger having dissipated. Hercules fixed his clothes and brushed himself off. "So are you still going to kill me after that?"  
Lafayette's glare came back as he jabbed Hercules with a finger, "You had better be happy that I'm hungry. You're buying my dinner."  
"I can do that."  
They both knew that Lafayette would likely cash in a few more favors for this and Hercules knew that he wouldn't be able to argue it later.  
"So where did you get all of that stuff and whose idea was it?"  
Hercules snorted, "Are you really asking me that?"  
Lafayette said nothing, but he was grinning. It was John's. "I'm going to kill him."  
"I'll help."  
"No, you're going to hold my coat."

 


	24. Body Horror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's gross but not graphic. Just snot issues. Typical James.

James wondered when he was going to get better. He was so tired of catching everything under the sun. He was one hundred percent sure that he could look at a picture of a sick person and come down with something. Thomas had teased him about it once but stopped after that time James fainted from a fever he had tried to ignore. After that, Thomas became a mother hen, and it was so damn annoying. When he even sniffed, Thomas would panic and bust out a pack of tissues, shoving them into James' face.

All of that culminates to today, where he was so congested, that when he sneezed, the mucus was compacted tightly enough that it all came shooting out, looking like a caterpillar. It was literally a caterpillar of hardened snot. It was absolutely disgusting. Alexander thought it was awesome and snapped a photo on his smartphone, President Washington gave him a wide berth for the remainder of the day, and Thomas stayed silent. Thomas had a gift when it came to his poker face; however, James prided himself on being able to see through it.

This "gift" gave him enough of a chance to prepare himself for Thomas fretting over him about twenty minutes later when Thomas followed him into his office.

The moment the door shut behind them, Thomas was flitting around James, trying to figure out what had him sneezing something like that. "Should we take you to the hospital? What was that thing that came out of your nose? Are you sure it wasn't a tapeworm?"

James let out a long-suffering sigh, "No, it wasn't a tapeworm. Those live in your gut."

"Holy shit! They've migrated; James, grab your coat and let's go. I'm taking you to the emergency room." Thomas was tugging at James' sleeve, trying to drag him to the door.

With a huff, James jerked his arm away, adjusting his coat. "Thomas, stop." He was putting his foot down. Yes, it was sweet that Thomas cared this much, but why did he have to be such a pest about it? "I'm fine. It's just allergies today."

They had a stare off, both deadpanning, although James could still see the worry in Thomas' eyes. He was debating on whether or not he was going to force James to go to the ER anyway. James raised a brow, daring him, and the battle was won; Thomas backed off. This didn't stop him from pulling out the tissues he kept in his pocket and passing it to James.

"OK, fine, but seriously? Who sneezes out a snotwad that looks like a worm?" he mumbled.

"The greatest man to have ever walked this earth," was James' reply as he took the tissues and blew his nose; he muttered thanks between each trumpeting blow.

Thomas snorted, "I think you mean 'to limp this earth.'"

James balled up one of the used tissues and then threw it at Thomas, who tried to dodge it, but it bounced off his face anyway.

"Oh my g--James you little--"

"Little what, Thomas?"

"You know exactly what." Before they could continue their argument, their phones pinged. If it were just one of them, they would have ignored it, but there were two pings and that could only mean one thing.

"Hamilton put that picture of my snot online, didn't he?" James silently wished the floor would swallow him whole. Heaven help him if his wife saw it.

When they took their phones out, sure enough, their coworker had posted it online and it had started a media storm.

"I'll kill him," Thomas grumbled.

"No, don't. I'll sneeze on him the next time I'm actually sick with something."

"You know what? That's a brilliant idea."

"Obviously."

Another ping, and this time it was only from James' phone. Just as he had feared, his wife had seen it and was sending him texts filled with emojis that were carefully chosen for the particular purpose of teasing him.

"Dammit, Hamilton." He turned the phone to Thomas, who grinned when he read them.

"You poor thing."

"Oh no. You're suffering with me this evening."

Thomas folded his arms, "Like hell, I am. It's my night to make dinner and Martha will kill me if I back out of it." No one crossed Thomas' wife. No one crossed James' wife. Cross both of them and the two would gang up on you for days to make your life a living hell. Both men regretted introducing their wives to each other very quickly after their biggest mistake.

With a smirk, James tapped on his phone and held it to his ear.

"What are you doing?" Thomas knew what was coming.

James ignored him, his grin growing as he began talking, "Mrs. Jefferson! How wonderful it is to hear your voice again. I was wondering if you and your husband would like to join us for dinner tonight." Pause. "Of course, she would love to see you again. My wife adores your company." Another pause. "How about seven?" Thomas tried to snatch his phone away, but James dodged the grab. "Sounds great; I look forward to seeing you both."

When he hung up, they only had to wait a moment for Thomas' phone to ping with a text. Thomas read it slowly before scowling at James. "Damn you..."

"What'd she say?"

"That she knows about the photograph and that James calling us over for dinner means I screwed up and oh yeah, what'd you do wrong this time?"

James grinned and was about to reply before he sneezed again. This was the second worm-like chunk of solidified mucus, and it had Thomas panicking again. He shoved Thomas off, "I told you it was allergies," and left for the bathroom to clean himself off.


	25. Zombies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JefxMads and zombies.  
> You can read this as shippy if you want but it's up to you.  
> Both are widowers/single at this point.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter:  
> Major Character Death (x2)  
> Suicide  
> Body Horror (I should have used this one for the previous day over it)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY  
> I wrote something that's properly angsty.  
> Whoops.

If Thomas could name the worst thing he has ever done, it would be shooting James Madison. Nothing came close to the pain he felt leading up to it, during, and then the aftermath. Losing his wife hurt, yes, but he didn't have to kill her.

James was the only person Thomas had left, and it had killed him to see it come to this, to see his friend, not dodge the enemy quickly enough. These monsters, the ones that used to be everyday people, were insatiable and it was all anyone--of those not infected--could do to keep them back. They couldn't do more than survive each day. There wasn't a chance to thrive, not today and not anytime soon.

They had gone out on a scrap mission.

James and Thomas usually hung back at the base, taking care of business there rather than looking for supplies. Neither one of them was a fighter. Sure, they could when they needed to--James was vicious--but they would only get in the way if they went out with the other teams.

Today was different. The whole camp was struggling. Scrap run teams came back with less and less, and they needed to cover a wider area to find stuff. So, they were roped into helping. It was part of their life.

It had gone surprisingly well, an easy mission. No one was going to complain.

Not until one pair didn't meet back up with them.

Only one showed up an hour later, and something was wrong. They were limping horribly, tired and scared. The man's team was attacked by a small pack of those things, and he was the only one to escape. They could tell by the way he carried himself that he was a goner. Why did he come back? He knew the rules. If you were bitten or scratched, you do the right thing and throw yourself to your sword.

So while he was telling them what happened, getting closer, everyone started to cock their weapons slowly as not to alarm him, but the guy had to know what was coming. The man had been one of their better shots too, which made the loss that much worse. Before anyone could fire, a sharp crack sounded as the man's limbs snapped this way and that, elongating until they snapped back into place. Nails sharpened and the head cocked at an odd angle. And then he attacked.

Everyone fired at once, which did the trick, but he was in mid-leap, having targeted James. So when he was shot, it killed him, but it didn't stop his momentum.

The monster bowled James over, much to Thomas' horror. No no no no. He couldn't lose him. He'd lost everything else, but he couldn't lose James too.

When James shoved the corpse off of him, there was a gash in his arm and one on his cheek.

Thomas felt his world come crashing down around him.

All that was left, was now gone. James needed to be put down right here and now.

Everyone froze, looking between Thomas and James, who were staring at one another with mixed expressions of pain and regret.

Thomas waved them off, murmuring that he would take care of it. This cleansing needed to stay private, between the two men who had no one else. Thomas had never seen James cry, although James had seen Thomas do it once when his wife died. Seeing the silent tears running down James' face made it seem more final. This was it for them.

Seeing James' tears was like opening the floodgates and Thomas' vision was blurring from his eyes filling.

Slowly, Thomas approached James and drew him close.

"I'm so so sorry. I'm so sorry." Thomas didn't know what else to say; James' injury had to be his fault.

The pair hugged one another tightly, knowing this would be the last time they would be able to see one another. James did most of the comforting, trying to convince Thomas that it wasn't his fault, that things happen, be strong, and any other bullshit he could spout to comfort him.

"Goodbye, James."

"Goodbye, Thomas."

Thomas didn't let go of James, which surprised him for a moment until he realized what Thomas was about to do. He was just about to shove Thomas back to keep him alive when he felt the metal against his head. A click and nothing.

Two bodies hit the ground.

Two bodies were all they were now.


	26. Seance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring John, Hercules, Alex, and Aaron  
> Special guest: the spirit communicating through the Ouija board.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all don't summon things, all right? Idc if you know what you're doing, don't do it.  
> That's just asking for trouble.  
> I don't believe in ouija boards, based on the psychology behind them, but I do believe in demons and things and for the sake of this short, the boards work.

The smell of burning candles of several different scents was a little overpowering. Would it send everything running for the hills? Aaron would if he could, just from the different scented candles.

What they were hoping to accomplish was beyond Aaron. Watching Alex, John, and Hercules set up, he questioned his sanity for still being here while they pulled out a Ouija board. Party his ass. This was going to be stupid, dull, or get them killed. Either way, Aaron wanted no part in it. Alex and John didn't give him much of a say in the matter, roping him into it anyway.

It didn't take long for Alex and John to finish, Hercules watching from where he was leaning against the dorm room sized bed. John's, if Aaron remembered correctly.

"All right Aaron. Get your sorry ass over here." Alex reached out and tugged him over, gentle but persistent until Aaron caved and let Alex drag him into position.

"Enough waiting around. Are we doing this or not?" Hercules grumbled. Aaron briefly wondered if Hercules thought the same about this as he did, in which case, maybe there was a way for him to get out of this. He and Hercules could escape or something.

When everyone was around the board, all four boys put their fingers on the planchette with John giving them a warning. "Now y'all be careful. This was my gran's and I'll strangle you if you break it."

Alex huffed a laugh, "John, don't be so dramatic. And watch it with the negativity. You want to draw something nasty in here?"

Aaron silenced a groan that nearly escaped, but didn't stop the eye roll. This game was stupid and why did he let them force him into this?

With everyone situated, John took the lead and started asking questions.

The planchette didn't move after the first response, which was "are you there?," to which they got a "yes." But they waited the recommended five minutes before moving onto the next one. Apparently, sometimes it takes a few questions until you ask the right one. And for kicks, John asked the "spirit(s)" if it knew their names.

That's when they started getting answers. It named all of them.

Aaron felt the small hairs on his arms rise at that and consoled himself with the fact that they probably had a particular order that they named off everyone in the group. Collectively, that's how they moved it in the same order. It had to be.

John went back to yes or no questions. Did you fall in love someone when you were alive? No. Did you have friends? No. John asked a few more questions, frown deepening the further they went along, mixing with the confusion that was mirrored on everyone's faces. Then, he asked the question that had everyone weirded out.

"Were you human?" It was an emphatic "no." One where the planchette tore away from their hands and slapped down onto the no, followed by a third of the candles going out all at once.

Everyone froze.

Hercules whispered a "holy shit"; Aaron silently agreed.

"Now what?" he choked out.

John swallowed, "We should send it back. Now."

"Wait no, hold on!" Alex stopped John from reaching for it and then quickly asked, "What are you?"

When it spelled out demon without anyone's hands on the planchette, everyone lunged for it and pushed it to "goodbye," casting it away as quickly as possible.

No one spoke for a long while, and all four of them kept sharing glances between quick peeks at the room around them to make sure nothing was coming after them.

Aaron was the first to break the silence.

"I say we all sleep at my place tonight and get the hell out of this room." No one argued with him.


	27. Possession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A part two of the last chapter.

Sleeping in Aaron's apartment that night didn't help much.

Especially when Hercules started muttering to himself and avoiding everyone in the room. He paced back and forth like a caged animal. After a while, he began shooting them the nastiest glares any of them had seen him produce, and they'd seen the look he had given the guy who dared make fun of Lafayette because they were gender neutral.

So the other three chose to avoid him for the most part, keeping the noise down and letting him have his space. John made the mistake of attempting to take some hot tea to the man. Hercules growled at him to back off, and John scurried away quickly. Hercules could cut an imposing figure when he wanted, although he rarely used it. The whole half of the room he paced around in just had this creepy feeling of weigh-you-down gloom about it. That was enough to chase the other three into the living room.

However, after about an hour of this, Hercules came stomping into the room. The three college boys looked up and stopped what they were doing immediately. If something had seemed off before, it was clear as day now, especially when his eyes had completely blacked out.

Alex and John hid behind Aaron, the cowards.

All three stared at Hercules in shock and horror, their instincts telling them to hightail it out of that apartment and get as far away from Hercules as possible.

No one moved, and everyone seemed to hold their breath until Hercules took out his phone to snap a picture and started laughing. A booming laugh that, when you heard it a mile away, you knew who it was. That was definitely his trademark laugh.

"Oh, you guys should see your faces!" He dissolved into giggles and pulled out a contact case from his pocket, slipping the black contacts out of his eyes and storing them in the case.

"Well, I'm not going to sleep tonight," Alex grumbled.

"I second that," chimed John.

"I third that."

Hercules, meanwhile, just grinned at them a moment before sending the picture to Lafayette. "Laf is gonna love this."

"You're a piece of shit."

Alex snorted and lightly shoved Aaron's shoulder, "For once, I completely agree with you."


	28. Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron is a demon and Alex accidentally sold his soul to him when he was bitty.  
> Aaron is an asshole  
> Alex wanted a little warning, is that too much to ask?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I like this one very much  
> It kinda moves too quickly...

One of the few things Alex wanted when he came to America was to find a friend. He didn't have any back home, and now he was in a new place, what felt like a new world.

And he felt so very alone.

His foster family was kind; Alex liked them enough as the Washingtons encouraged Alex to push himself to work for what he wanted. He loved that part.

But he still felt lonely.

He didn't have a dad, and he'd lost his mom; he didn't have anyone left.

That is until he met another boy his age at the park. They two hit it off instantly, Alex happy to have found someone that could tolerate his constant talking. Aaron Burr was the other boy's name. At nine years old, Aaron could keep up with Alex easily, and they could talk about any number of subjects without worrying that their conversation companion couldn't keep up.

When they finally decided to put a label on their friendship and announce to one another that they were friends, it was Aaron who introduced it. He even wrote up a small pact in his pretty handwriting. Alex read over it, seeing that it simply said that they'd be together forever and Alex would always be Aaron's. He thought nothing of it, hardly skimmed it, and signed paper quickly. The pair wanted to be lawyers when they grew up, so they attempted to be serious about the whole thing.

One shared glance and they were in a fit of giggles.

Alex missed the hungry and possessive way Aaron was looking at him while he continued to laugh.

\--

As they grew, they became fiercely protective of one another, although Alex would quickly admit that Aaron was the most vicious one. Aaron was quiet, even-tempered and always in control of his emotions, his words, how he carried himself, but if someone laid a hand on Alex, he made sure they didn't do it again. Alex got the same message across, but he showed more feeling when he defended Aaron. Your only warning that Aaron was about to fight you was a brief flash of cold fury before all emotion was wiped from his face.

Alex would say that it was certainly scarier to have a guy fighting you without any hint of emotion than to have a kid who sported his anger in a fight like a uniform.

Aaron rarely got into trouble. He only sought it out if it had to do with someone picking on Alex without Alex starting something. It only happened a handful of times, and then they never had a problem with Aaron seeking someone out again. Alex however, lets his passion get the better of him, and so he seemed to get into an argument at least once a week. Aaron, in those times, was the voice of reason that would drag Alex away before he found himself tossed into detention.

 

They were also competitive. Their playful rivalry to try and outdo the other in school is what helped them to graduate high school early as the top two in their class. Aaron was valedictorian (which pissed Alex off, but he was proud of his friend) and Alex was salutatorian. The pattern would be repeated in college with the same results.

\--

Alex wouldn't regret the decision to sign that ridiculous contract until he graduated with his bachelor's degree, and even then, he learned to forgive. In fact, he had completely forgotten about it until he and Aaron were back in their shared apartment, slowly packing away their textbooks and school things.

Alex glanced over and saw his now boyfriend staring down at a small sheet of paper. It looked slightly browned and crumpled like it had been folded and unfolded time and time again to look at it. Aaron was grinning down at it, which was something else that caught Alex's attention. Aaron smiled, sure, but it was usually measured, carefully crafted for the situation unless it was for Alex. And Alex coveted the genuine smiles he got. But rarely had he ever seen the guy grin like that. Maybe that one time they wasted a whole night playing Mario Kart and Aaron managed to beat Alex. Finally. Alex thought that that was the happiest he'd ever seen Aaron, and he wished he could see that grin more often.

"What's that?" he finally asked.

Aaron looked up from the sheet of paper, still grinning. It was a little disarming, to see him grinning like that. Now that Alex was getting a better look at it, the expression seemed to be a little sharper, showing Aaron's teeth and wolfish. When had he seen that expression before? Maybe that one time they went to a bar with Alex as Aaron's wingman. After a few drinks, Aaron had a similar expression. Drunk himself, Alex hadn't thought anything of it. Not when Aaron wound up setting his sights on Alex before the night was out and not when they found themselves in Alex's bed with Aaron looming over him.

Hungry. That was a great way to put it.

"Our contract from when you were a kid."

You? Alex thought. Why not we?

"If I remember right, teeny tiny you wrote it up and tried to make it look official." Alex grinned and went back to organizing the notes he didn't need now, splitting everything into binders based on topic.

"Hm, I did. You agreed that you'd be mine forever, remember that?" Aaron held it out, and Alex took it, glancing at it with a fond smile. He remembered it more clearly now. They'd tried to be serious and only fell into giggles before they were done.

"Yep, and I stand by it." Alex passed it back to him. "I didn't notice it then, but you didn't say you'd be mine forever. Shameful," he teased.

Aaron set it beside him, "I did it on purpose. I'm a very selfish man, Alex."

"You? Never."

Aaron playfully tossed a wad of trash at Alex, "Talk less, Alex." Alex stopped talking, but he was bursting at the seems with wanting to comment.

Wolfish grin back, Aaron crawled towards Alex. A thrill went through Alex, hoping it was going where he thought it was. Aaron nudged him onto his back, shoving the books out of the way from their spot on the carpeted floor. He descended upon Alex, kissing him long and slow. Alex reveled in it, pushing up to meet him halfway. One hand found its way to the back of Aaron's neck, trying to pull him closer but Aaron wasn't having that and grabbed Alex's hands, pinning them above his head with a smirk. One hand held them there while the other swept over Alex's chest.

Lips to Alex's ear, Aaron whispered, "You said you were mine, swore it, now I'm cashing in on that."

Before Alex knew what happened, Aaron's hand dug into his chest, hand slipping through it like Alex thought would happen with maybe a ghost. Searing pain bloomed from where his heart sat in his chest as Aaron seemed to grip it. A scalding sensation filled Alex like fire was consuming him from the inside out.

"You should have read the fine print, Alex. Alway read the fine print." Alex tried to scream from the pain, but no sound came out. All at once, the burning feeling stopped, but he still felt raw inside sore and aching.

"The...what th-the hell was that?" he gasped, trying in vain to push Aaron off of him; his limbs felt like they were filled with lead.

"That, my dear Alex, was you holding your end of the bargain." Aaron pushed himself up, sitting between Alex's legs. He pressed a kiss to the side of Alex's knee, dark eyes trained on the young man beneath him. "Mine forever, remember? We demons are fond of our contracts...and it was about time I marked my territory. Damn, how many years have I been working on your soul? Protecting it like a gardener to his plants in the winter. The number of times I had to fight another off to keep you by me...the lonely ones are the easiest to snag. Find someone with a broken heart, and you'll have them in your back pocket with little effort. And for a child that had seen as much shit as you had? I don't know how I managed to beat someone else to it. My kind should have been able to smell you from the other side of the earth...maybe it was meant to be."

Alex's body still hurt, but he managed to croak out, "I don't understand."

Aaron gently set Alex's leg back down and folded his hands neatly in his lap. "Let's keep it simple, shall we? I asked you for ownership of your person "forever."" Aaron did air quotes here. "You agreed. You should have known better than to sign without reading the whole thing."

"I was a kid!"

"A kid who was an idiot. Now, you're still my idiot, but now you've been ID'd, taken and married, as it were." He gestured at Alex, "You agreed, and that contract was binding. Don't get me wrong; I do still love you. And I'm not just saying that because your soul and life is mine."

Alex was horrified. What the hell was this? He had to be dreaming; this had to be a nightmare. There was no way that this could be right. The pain he felt told him what he didn't want to hear.

Finally finding some of his strength, he pushed himself up. It put him and Aaron closer, inches apart with Aaron still sitting between Alex's legs, but at least Alex could meet his eye. He was shaking, from pain, fear, uncertainty. What did one do in this situation? This was nothing he could have expected.

"Now what?" he whispered. Was he going to hell now or what?

Aaron reached up and lightly tapped Alex's nose, "We go back to our lives."

"So I'm not, like, going to die right now?"

The man snorted, "No. Not unless you do something stupid like step in front of a car. You live, you never leave my side unless someone kills you, or you do it to yourself. If someone does the deed, they get to have their pain drawn out. We don't like it when someone breaks what's ours." His eyes flashed, cold and cruel before it was gone and replaced with his usual dry humor. "And you humans don't sell your souls to be damned to Hell, just to meet whatever our individual needs are."

Alex looked down and picked at his fingers, chewing on his bottom lip. "So, I'm what, a slave or something?" The young man jerked his eyes back up when he heard Aaron laugh.

"Some are, some aren't. That is not your purpose." Aaron's smile softened from the dry, calculated one he usually sported. "What did you need back then?"

"A friend," Alex answered without a second thought.

"And that need went both ways."

"You're kidding me."

Aaron gave him a flat look, one brow slightly raised. "No."

"Why didn't you just explain that back then?" Alex snapped. "I woulda liked a little warning before I feel like I'm on fire."

Aaron finally looked a little guilty. "Ah. Is uh, that the biggest problem to you here?"

"Yes."

"I've just branded your soul with my mark, and you won't be leaving my side for the rest of eternity, and that's your problem with all of this?"

Alex huffed and scowled at him. Now that he knew what it was all about, it wasn't scary so much as it pissed him off that Aaron didn't just ask him properly first, or at least give him a little warning before he shoved his hand into him and strangled his heart.

Apparently, he spoke out loud because Aaron snorted, "I'd say I would warn you next time but..."

Alex punched his arm with a huff, "Asshole."

With a grin, Aaron leaned over to kiss Alex's nose. "That may be so, but I'm your asshole now."

"You already were."

He looked thoughtful a moment before murmuring, "I guess I was."


	29. Trick-Or-Treat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Single Dads!Au for Lams.

Philip was bouncing off of the walls, or, well, the little race car he was driving down the street. The small battery powered toy would inevitably run out of juice before the night was out, but Philip didn't seem to mind. Alex did, knowing he'd be the one to carry the damn thing when it died, and that thing was heavy. But Philip was having the time of his life, going as a NASCAR driver. It was adorable, how he was shouting, "Vroom Vroom! Papa look! Vrrrrrrrrm! Vrmmmmmmm! Vrmmm!" up the street.

At one house, they ran into a man Alex had seen at a house from one street over. He had never paid him any mind with how busy he was playing single father to a five-year-old AND finding time to work. Alex would admit, the guy had a darling daughter. A princess with a Batman mask. Alex wouldn't say so out loud, but he thought the girl had everyone else beat.

Reaching down, Alex lightly nudged her shoulder, "Hey, awesome costume. Princess by day, BatPrincess by night?"

The girl had to be about six, close to Philip's age. She looked up at Alex and practically beamed at him.

"That's BatQueen to you!"

Alex and the girl's father had to suppress their laughter.

"Ah, excuse me, your majesty." Alex gave a mock bow, grinning at her as she gave him a sage nod, and then stood back up to steal a glance at Philip. The boy was trotting back to Alex, holding his helmet that was quickly filling with candy.

When he saw the little girl, his face lit up. "Cool!" He raced the rest of the way to them and grinned at the little girl. "I wish I could wear that."

That had the girl glowing even more under the praise. "I'm BatQueen."

Philip giggled and held a hand up for a high-five, which the girl met easily.

Alex finally took a look at the girl's father, and holy shit he shouldn't have. What grown man had that many freckles? And those round eyes? That was just unfair.

Swallowing nervously, Alex held out a hand, "Alexander Hamilton, pleased to meet you."

The man grinned and took Alex's hand, giving a firm shake. "I'm John Laurens, likewise."

Alex glanced back at their kids and snorted as the two talked animatedly with one another. "I think we may end up having a play day in our future if they keep that up."

"I wouldn't mind." Alex looked back to John and saw the man cross his arms, grinning at Alex. Yep. Shit. He was gone.

A tug at Alex's sleeve had him returning his attention to Philip who began pleading for Alex and John to let them finish going to all of the houses together.

"I'm fine with it if her dad is."

"I'm cool with it. Let's get going before all of the candy is taken."

And that was that.


	30. Costume Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron and Theo dressed as Mercy and Reaper fro Overwatch.

Aaron would have never guessed that Theodosia would have dressed in something like that. Like, not only was it a cosplay of a video game character, but she looked so fantastic that he wasn’t sure if he was going to melt from her beauty or burn to a crisp from the warmth that flowed through his veins. Either way, he didn’t realize that he was staring until she skipped up to him, smiling sweetly.

“What do you think Aaron? Does it look OK?” She gave a small twirl and Aaron got to watch her ponytail whip along with the motion and the partial skirt twirl with her. The wings were mostly stationary, but they had joints for a little wiggle room. The bodice of armor hugged her soft curves perfectly and damn it really was like she was like an angel from heaven.

“Mercy’s Caduceus staff?” he asked, gesturing to the staff in her right hand.

Theodosia beamed at him and nodded vigorously, “Yep! I went with the blue skin; I thought it would look nicer with my eyes and all.” She was right. The dark blue went well with her sun warmed skin and bright, gray eyes. She was a vision.

“And who are you this year?” she asked, although her smile said she had a guess. The two of them had been playing Overwatch together, and Theodosia seemed to kick his pants nine times out of ten.

“Reaper. But the mask was getting hot, so I took it off for a bit.” He smiled sheepishly as she jabbed him in the chest.

“Put it on! I want to see what you look like with it on.” And who could say no to that face?

Sighing, Aaron slipped the mask on quickly, adjusting the band that held it in place behind his head before yanking the hood back up. “How’s this?” For fun, he did his own spin, which got a laugh out of her. The embarrassment of looking like an idiot was worth hearing her laugh like that; that giggle made anything worth the trouble.

Theodosia’s smile only grew as she closed the distance between them. “Now, what was it I read somewhere? Mercy and Reaper, together, were called Mercykill, right? Now, what’s say you and I stop cosplaying a couple and actually get together?”

Unholy hell was Aaron glad that the mask hid his face.

Wait. Did she just ask him out?

“You are a brilliant woman, Theo.” He held out a hand for her to take, only for her to grab it and drag him to the dancefloor. This was not where he thought they were going; he wouldn’t complain. But just like in video games, she outdid him. Aaron half wondered if there wasn’t something that she could do.


	31. Rocky Horror Picture Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is so weird but I had so much fun...doing it.   
> Dr. Frank N. Furter: TJeff  
> Rocky: Laf  
> Riff Raff: James  
> Columbia: Peggy  
> Magenta: Maria  
> Brad Majors: Aaron  
> Janet Weiss: Theodosia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to smilecauselittlemisschi on Tumblr for helping me work out the character list for this one.

 

Aaron didn't think it could get any weirder. He and Theo just wanted to get going and get back to their honeymoon. They ask for a damn telephone, and instead they get a bunch of freaks dancing and singing around them. Theo had begun to look more and more uncomfortable, which didn't help Aaron's mood. He just wanted to get out of here.

 

As everyone in the room stood from where they'd fallen, having finished the dancing and singing, Thomas smiled to himself. He did love it when his lovers had a good time. Few things made him happier than seeing them beaming from ear to ear.

Although, the screaming wasn't the sort he liked to hear. No, a scream in pleasure? He could get behind that--and he had been behind THAT too many times to count.

Keeping his black cape cinched tight around him, the fuschia collar meeting his curls halfway, Thomas looked between their newest guests--he'd later learn Theo and Aaron, how cute.

 

" _How do you do_

_I see you've met my, faithful, handyman_

_He's just a little brought down_

_'Cause when you knocked_

_He thought you were the candyman._ "

 

The good doctor swaggered out of the old lift and down the aisle--shooting a quick wink to James--with a small smirk. He was pleased to see that everyone in the room had immediately focused on him, and him only.

 

" _Don't get strung out_

By the way _I look_

 _Don't judge a book by its cover._ "

 

With a few quick hops, he was on the stage in their ballroom.

 

" _I'm not much of a man_

_By the light of day_

_But by night I'm one hell of a lover._ "

 

Thomas smirked at his audience and threw off his cape, revealing his fuchsia corset, garters, fishnets, and a pair of heels that could kill a man. He ran his tongue lightly over his bottom lip, grinning when everyone's eyes followed the motion.

 

" _I'm just a sweet transvestite_

 _From Transsexual, Transylvania._ "

 

He sauntered off of the stage, ridiculously large pearls clicking and swinging from his neck as he made his way to the stranded couple.

 

" _Let me show you around_

_Maybe play you a sound_

_You look like you're both pretty groovy._ "

 

Thomas lightly poked them both in the chest, forcing them to walk backward towards the crowd of people in the ballroom. Aaron and Theo started to resist, but it only made them stumble. Their host caught them with ease, smirking as he pulled them into his arms. The couple could only stare into his eyes as he guided them to the stage. Aaron and Theo were unsure if it were because they were scared or...they didn't want to think about the or.

 

" _Or if you want something visual_

_That's not too abysmal_

_We could take in an old Steeve Reeves movie._ "

 

The man took them by the hand and twirled them away from his body, letting his other lovers catch them and set them right again. Aaron was the one to follow him, trying to get through to their host that he and his wife just wanted to get going. "I'm glad we caught you at home but could we use your phone? We're both in a bit of a hurry."

Theo interrupted him, "Right! We just need to--" She trailed off. No one was listening, which frustrated her, but she couldn't do anything about it.

So Aaron kept going for her, "We'll just say where we are and then go back to the car; we don't want to be any worry!"

 

Thomas grinned and spun around to face them, clapping his gloved hands together.

 

" _Well you got caught with a flat_

_Well how 'bout that_

_Well, babies don't you panic._ "

 

Thomas started for the stage again, hips swaying to draw the couple's attention to his ass. When he got to the throne, one of his lovers, Peggy, met him, her glittering yellow coat and hat shining with each sway of the hips and tilt of the head. She was a vision; Thomas would give her that.

After getting to the gilded chair, they did a small cat-and-mouse sort of dance around the throne, grinning wildly at one another.

 

" _By the light of the night_

_It'll all seem alright_

_I'll get you a Satanic Mechanic_

_I'm just a sweet transvestite_

_From Transsexual, Transylvania._ ”

 

He draped himself in his chair, kicking his legs up and over the side. He wanted to show off his legs, dammit he was going to. Thomas didn’t work his ass off to make them look this good not to show them to everyone. He caught Theo staring openly at him, eyes boring holes into his calves and then his thighs. When their eyes met, she blushed and quickly looked away from him, forcing herself to keep her gaze on Aaron and only Aaron. How sweet, Thomas thought. She’s trying to stay faithful; he’ll give her that. But how long would that last tonight?

Because he planned to give them the sexual awakening that they never knew they needed.

 

“ _Why don't you stay for the night?_ ” he sang, chewing on his bottom lip immediately after. To his right, his closest friend, James echoed his suggestions.

Thomas continued with, “ _Or maybe a bite._ ”

 

Peggy stalked the couple like prey, hips swaying just right, just enough to catch Aaron’s attention. “Bite!”

 

" _I could show you my favorite obsession_

_I've been making a man_

_With black hair and curls_

_And he's good for relieving my tension_

_I'm just a sweet transvestite_

_From Transsexual, Transylvania_ "

 

Thomas hopped back up from his throne and danced through his party of lovers back to the lift.

 

" _Hit it! Hit it!_

 _I'm just a sweet transvestite!_ "

 

Everyone cheered and echoed back, " _Sweet Transvestite!_ "

 

Thomas finally loped back into the lift, " _From Transsexual--_ "

 

" _Transylvania!_ " came the cheer from behind him.

 

Thomas spun around and grabbed the doors, staring at his guests hungrily,

 

" _So come up to the lab_

_And see what's on the slab_

_I see you shiver with_ antici _..._ " He smirked, watching everyone lean forward, like puppets. "-- _pation_ _."_

 

" _But maybe the rain_

_Isn't really to blame_

_So I'll remove the cause_

_But not the symptom!_ "

 

With that, the lift closed and shot upwards, leaving Aaron and Theo with this stranger crowd of people.

 

Everything was a blur after that until Aaron and Theo finally found themselves in the lab with their host and his party...or was it harem? Aaron wasn't sure anymore. All they knew, was that Thomas was parading around the room again, slipping on his coat and a different pair of gloves.

Aaron was horrified to see Thomas, James, and one other assistant raised a well-wrapped body--Lafayette, Thomas had whispered to them dreamily--bringing it to life. Slowly, Thomas bit his bottom lip and tugged the wrappings from Lafayette's head. The man they had just brought to life bore a striking resemblance to Thomas, although there was something purer about the man. Maybe. Although it may just be his confusion in being brought into this new world that he didn't understand yet, that gave him the air of innocence.

Thomas certainly planned to fix that, if the way he watched the man, Lafayette, that Peggy and Maria were uncovering was any indication.

Aaron caught Theo staring at Lafayette, taking in his chiseled chest and the shimmering blue speedo that left nothing to the imagination. Aaron would have jealous that Lafayette was bigger than him if it were not for the fact that he soon found himself staring too.

The couple quickly realized that there was no way in hell their host was going to let anyone near his creation. Lafayette seemed to be perfectly fine with this and the two fawned over one another.

Aaron found Theo's hand and gave it a small tug.

"Let's get out of here while he's distracted," he whispered.

They almost made it to the front door before Thomas and Lafayette stepped in front of them, wearing matching, lecherous grins.

Aaron and Theo didn't make it to their honeymoon, but they didn't mind in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for October folks!  
> Thanks for reading and I'm so glad I actually finished a challenge. Like, wow, I'm proud of myself...

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Days & Nights](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10180601) by [Momma_Time](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Momma_Time/pseuds/Momma_Time)




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